Only When I Breathe
by Unstable Firestarter
Summary: Stuck far from home and with amnesia, Jacob encounters an enigmatic young woman who stirs feelings in him that he only ever thought Bella could. However, danger and despair hang over them like a cloud as foes wait for the right moment to strike. Jacob/OC.
1. Prologue Jacob

**A/N:** My first Twilight fic! I seem to be jumping into different fandoms a lot recently, hehe. These chapters are going to be relatively short at times compared to my other fics, but I decided to stop forcing myself to try and write a long chapter and write just what flowed. Well, here we go, a fic that will, for now, focus solely on my favorite shapeshifter and a couple of OCs, possibly later on containing more canon characters. I apologize now for any out-of-character moments he might experience, for I'm still getting used to being in his head. Rated T for now, rating will possibly change as the story progresses due to violence and death. Reviews are welcome, but please, no flames.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Twilight. The only bits here that belong to me are my OCs and the twisted plot-thoughts in my head.

* * *

**Prologue – "Jacob"**

Silence reigned through the farmhouse nestled in a clearing of the forest, the usual night noises issuing throughout the trees. Somewhere off an owl hooted, sending a field mouse—its would-be prey—scurrying for cover. A long wooden fence encircled the large barn that contained a horse and a couple of hens, providing a nice grazing area. A dirt road wound its way off into the blackness of the trees, perhaps leading to civilization.

Inside the house, the soul occupant slept in an upstairs bedroom. She tossed and turned, her peace interrupted by a dream. It was dark and shadowy, far off in the woods. A large animal, running between the trees. Dark, shaggy fur, too dark to tell the color in the night. It had the shape of a wolf, but a size closer to a bear.

Her head jerked to the side in her sleep, eyes twitching under closed lids as her mind struggled to keep up with this racing animal. Something was chasing after it now, a large predator that ran effortlessly along behind it. This sudden presence distracted the wolf, caused it to twist its head back and curl its lips in a snarl, warning the unknown predator to stay back.

The pursuer paid no heed to this warning though, and persisted, seeming to be herding the other animal towards the approaching cliff. Snarling again, the wolf started to circle around, but a dark form hurtled out of the night. It plowed into the wolf's side with enough fore to knock it over the edge. With a growl and a yelp, the wolf scrabbled uselessly at the rock face, plunging down into blackness.

Her eyes snapped open, and all at once she sat up, taking deep breathes. _Him._

* * *

He was trying to focus all his attention, all his thoughts, on running. Another sleepless night, his mind plagued with the reasons he'd left home in the first place. Become the wolf again—that was what he was trying to do—let go of his human side, forget about Bella and that filthy leech.

Wait-what was that? A welcome distraction to his human troubles; another set of paws, a rhythmic running some distance behind him. It sounded large, and was obviously fast to be gaining on him. He lifted his nose, trying to catch a scent, but the wind was blowing head on, sweeping his own scent straight back to whatever was behind him. Twisting his head halfway around, his lips curling back from his teeth, he issued a warning growl.

His unknown pursuer gave no response, but also didn't stop. This piqued his interest; this large animal might possibly be a predator—since it hadn't fled at his snarl—and it might possibly be looking for a fight—he _was_ passing through its territory after all. A fight would do him good, it would help clear his mind and lessen some of his anger.

Uttering another low snarl, he began to circle back on whatever was following him. Without warning, a large dark form burst from the trees off to his side, moving so fast that he had no time to react—and that was saying something. It plowed into his side, the impact cracking a rib or two. The force knocked his feet out from under him, sending him skidding over the edge of the cliff he hadn't even realized he'd approached, too distracted by his pursuer.

He gave a growl and then a yelp, long claws scrabbling useless at the rock face as he tried to pull himself back up. He was unsuccessful. The large russet wolf plunged down into blackness, his unknown assailant gone as quickly as they'd appeared.

The large predator that had been pursuing him stopped a few paces back from the cliff, its pure white fur glowing faintly in the moonlight. It tilted its head to the side, listening intently, and was able to pick up the sound of the wolf's labored breathing from below; it was alive. In pain, unconscious from the fall, but alive.

A sudden branch snapping made the predator whirl about, teeth bared in a surprised growl. A dark shape darted away through the trees, quite possibly the same thing that had forced the wolf over the cliff. Lowering its head for a moment, the predator moved slowly in the direction the shape had been, sniffing at the air as it went. Large paws picked their way between twigs that would snap loudly beneath its weight—surprisingly delicate and careful—as it made its way forward.

The wind changed direction then, blowing the sought after scent to the predator—and it froze at once. The scent…it was almost sickly sweet, somehow _cold_—if a smell could be cold—and there was something vaguely familiar, some sort of spice. Its ears flattened back against its skull, and it turned quickly, seeming to be agitated, its tail twitching. It made its way back over to the cliff, leaping out into space. It stretched its paws out, long claws extending, and hit the top section of a large pine, claws gouging into the bark and finding purchase.

Leaping from branch to branch—and taking care to stick to only the largest ones, as the smaller branches would quickly snap underneath its weight—it reached the ground where the unconscious wolf lay. In the dark, it couldn't tell the extent of its injuries, but it was alive, and it didn't think the wolf was in any immediate danger of dying. Both standing, the wolf would be taller than the pure white hunter, but physically they would probably be quite evenly matched. To prove this fact, the predator lowered its head, fixing its jaws carefully on the fur at the back of the wolf's neck, and lifted. Like this, it easily half carried-half dragged the large wolf off into the darkness.


	2. Full Moon

**A/N:** Thank you for the review! =D

* * *

**Chapter One – "Full Moon"**

Black eyes opened slowly, blinked a few times as he registered being awake. A dull ache came into existence in places, but it felt dimmed, like it should hurt worse—like at the dentist's, when you knew it should be painful, but the Novocain prevented it—but it didn't. Everything seemed too bright, especially the midday sunlight that was filtering in through the window that was high up on the wall.

What a trip; how did he end up in this mess? In this unfamiliar place with its unfamiliar scents? He lifted his head a bit, looking around—he seemed to be in a horse stall, in a barn, laying on a bed of hay. To prove this assumption, somewhere close by a horse neighed softly as a door slid open.

Thinking back quickly, he tried to remember what had happened to bring him here. Everything came up blank. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing before waking up, or anything for a long time. Blank spots in what he could remember as well, like some one had spilled a can of black paint on a mural.

Soft footsteps were approaching, causing a couple of chickens to scatter with disgruntled clucks. A figure stopped in the doorway of the stall, and his muddled mind immediately jumped to conclusions. She was of average height, but with a slender form, silken white-blonde hair that drifted around her shoulders, and such fair skin that seemed—to him—to be glowing in the light.

His ears twitched back, a deep growl starting in his throat, working up like a low rumble of thunder—vampire! Bloodsucker!

She didn't seem surprised by his reaction to her—as if having an abnormally large wolf growling menacingly at her as if it wished to rip her throat out was something she dealt with every day—and raised her hands in a gesture to show that she meant no harm. She didn't move back, but stayed where she was, gazing at him unflinchingly.

"Easy," she said soothingly, her voice low and calm—but with a very distinctive _human_ tone to it, "I'm not going to hurt you."

He considered this, teeth still bared, but the growl fading. Her eyes were blue—not red, or gold, or black, the colors he had seen of vampire's eyes before—but that didn't explain why she appeared to be shining in the sunlight like vampires did.

Carefully, she took a step forward, stretching out a hand towards him to let him sniff. As soon as he caught her scent, his ears swept back again—she was human, her scent confirmed this. There was something else there though as well, a very pleasant smell, reminiscent of…banana nut bread. Odd, but comforting in a way. Whining softly, he wagged his tail once as a sign of good faith.

"There, that's better," she said, still in that same soothing tone as she brought her hand back to her side, "You might feel a little strange—I wasn't sure how many painkillers to give a wolf your size," she added apologetically.

Oh. Well that probably explained why she and many other things seemed to be glowing at the moment. But what was she, some kind of animal doctor? A veterinarian? And what did he need painkillers for in the first place anyway—what had happened to him?

"That was one nasty fall you had," she said quietly, easing into the stall with him slowly—like one would with an _average_ "wild" animal that they didn't want to startle and risk losing a leg—or their life—to. "Broke your left hind leg, right foreleg, and cracked a few ribs."

Nothing he couldn't recover from, though it would take a few long _days_—days opposed to the usual weeks or months it took to heal broken bones—and she would end up very suspicious about his quick recovery. For some inexplicable reason though, he didn't feel any fear or unease about that—as if his secret would be safe with her. That didn't make any sense though—that fall she'd mentioned, must have knocked something loose in his head—because keeping the secret of what he was, was one of the most important things.

"Should be fine though, no permanent damage," she said, slowly crouching down beside him, her clear blue eyes as intent as if she were speaking with a human instead of an animal.

Instead of seeming like he understood her, he quickly affixed a wary expression on his canine features, remembering that he was supposed to be a simple wolf. There was something about her that seemed to be trying to trigger something in his mind—a memory perhaps, to fill in some gap in his thoughts—tugging on something primal, but was too lost in the haze of amnesia to be brought forth.

Carefully, she reached out a hand towards him, making no sudden movements, and he eyed her cautiously, following the wolf's instincts to be on guard. However, he let her touch him, her comparatively small hand coming to rest lightly on the top of his head. Her fingers threaded softly through his russet fur as she stroked behind his ears a few times. The wolf in him was pleased with this simple act, for the moment calm in that it didn't feel it was in any immediate danger, though the man was puzzled; why was this girl so bold, so at ease? He was after all—in her eyes—a wild animal, a massive wolf that could rip her to shreds with a simple shake of his head. Wounded, yes, possibly unable to walk at the moment, but still dangerous nonetheless.

"I'm Ginevra by the way," she suddenly spoke again, breaking him from his reverie, "I'll take care of you until those breaks heal."

She said it as if introducing herself to animals was something she did all the time, as easily as if she'd just introduced herself to a new acquaintance. But who knew, maybe this was the way she dealt with all wounded animals she took in, maybe it was a simple process for her, the way she got them to trust her and the sound of her voice, so that they wouldn't rip her hand off and such.

He merely blinked at her, tilting his head slightly. He was unable to do any more really, without giving away that he could completely understand her and was not, after all, a normal wolf. He supposed he could live with this for a few days, being taken care of by a pretty girl like her—so long as she didn't feed him kibble.

* * *

Late that night, after he'd fallen asleep, he had the most peculiar dream. He dreamt that he was lying in the stall in the barn, moonlight filtering in through the window now instead of sunlight. The door slid open, and he could hear heavy steps coming towards him slowly. This was the part where he knew he had to be dreaming, because he felt no fear or anger at the sight of a pure white animal—a hunter, a predator, though its image was blurred, making it difficult if not near impossible for him to tell what it was exactly—coming into sight at the entrance to the stall.

It looked at him for a moment, long tail swaying as if it debated what to do based on his non-reaction, and then it slunk into the stall with him. It was surprising that it found any room, given that he was stretched out across most of the floor, unable to bend his broken legs. Without a sound, it laid down at his back, large paws tucking neatly under its form and head resting on said paws.

Oddly, its presence next to him, its body heat against him, was comforting, though he could not say why. The white beast lifted its head again suddenly, and he could hear a low growl deep in its throat. He didn't know what had made it agitated, but he somehow knew that the growl was not directed at him. Within a few minutes, the beast calmed again, this time laying its head against his shoulder.

_What a peculiar dream_, he thought again, before it all faded into blackness and deeper sleep overtook him.


	3. Splash of Red

**A/N:** Thank you so much =D I read your Twilight story, BTW, and I like it, it's a good start. Okay, here we have the next chapter, obviously, and the start of some chicken humor ensues x3

* * *

**Chapter Two – "Splash of Red"**

Ginevra woke somewhat less than fully rested in the morning—she'd had a long night she supposed, uneventful, but slightly sleep depriving at times—however she could steal a nap sometime during the day. It wasn't like she had much else to do besides some minor chores and take care of the wolf. Sitting up, she ran a pale hand—she looked like she didn't see the sun often, but that wasn't true; she was out in the sun for the most of every day, her skin just chose not to tan—through her white-blonde hair. One might assume that her hair was that way for opposite reasons to her skin tone, but it was simply that her hair always had been and always would be this fair, all on its own.

Showering and getting dressed, she made her way downstairs to prepare breakfast—eggs for herself, and then something for her healing wolf friend, of course. After finishing her eggs—scrambled, of course, her favorite since she was a child—she rooted through the fridge that was next to the main refrigerator. She used this second one primarily for meats because she kept so much on hand. Beef. That should do. Tossing it on a frying pan on the stove, she cooked it a bit, just enough to warm it up, and so that it wasn't dripping blood.

"Good morning," she called when she entered the barn, speaking not only to her wolf, but the horse and the chickens as well. _Her_ wolf…how quickly, how easily she had thought that. She shouldn't jump ahead just yet—there was still time…

She put the beef on a stainless steel tray that had been sitting on a shelf of veterinary type supplies and made her way to the stall where the wolf was. The blonde paused in the doorway for a moment to be sure she didn't startle the animal—and when she saw that it was awake and alert of her presence, she moved into the stall.

"I brought you breakfast," she said, setting the tray down, "I figured you would be hungry."

His eyes lit up at the sight of the meat, and his tail thumped once in appreciation; no kibble! Then again, he _was_ a wolf and not a _dog_ after all. Tucking his unbroken legs underneath him, he rolled over enough to be able to eat, eyeing her a bit as she stepped back from the tray.

"You know," she said thoughtfully after a moment, watching him eat, "I'm going to have to come up with a name for you eventually."

He paused, looking up—no, he was just fine with his own name—Jacob was good, thank you very much—huffed once, and then went back to eating.

Ginevra laughed softly at his reaction, taking it that he didn't feel like being named by her. "You probably have your own name already anyway," she said, sitting down cross-legged just outside of the stall, "All creatures do. And besides," she added, looking away, out of the open barn doors, "You'll be going back to the forest when you're all patched up."

She sounded almost wistful about that, as if she didn't want him to. "Oh well," she said suddenly, sounding much more cheerful as if she'd realized that he was puzzling over her sad tone, "I suppose I should introduce you to your stable mates for while you're here."

Leaning back a bit, she gestured over to the chestnut stallion that was munching contently on some oats in his stall, "That's Ronin," she explained, "He used to belong to my…brother, but now he's mine. He's kinda old, but he's spirited."

Finishing the meat she'd given him, he watched her with interest as she talked—it wasn't as if he had anything better to do, or some place to rush off to, anyway.

She grabbed one of the hens that had been pacing along behind her scratching at the ground, causing the startled fowl to squawk. "This is Dabble," she said, soothing the bird, "And that one over there is Lola."

Releasing the hen, Ginevra looked around, but what she was seeking wasn't within sight. "Somewhere around here is a rooster, Bugs. He thinks he's all that," she confided with a wink, "But it's just in his head."

He would have laughed if he'd been human; chickens named Bugs and Lola? Some one spent too much time watching the Looney Toons.

With a small smile at their shared secret about Bugs, she got to her feet, taking the now empty tray. Humming a tune to herself, she carried the tray around to the water valve at the side of the barn. "Seas would rise when I gave the word…" she sang quietly, washing the stainless steel clean.

Turning the water back off again, she carried the tray into the barn, snagging the towel off of the supply shelf, "Now in the morning I sweep alone, sweep the streets I used to own…" she meticulously wiped the tray clean before returning both it and the towel to the shelf.

She paused to pet Ronin, rubbing the horse's broad head, and smiled when he neighed appreciatively.

"But that was when I ruled the world…" she finished somewhat absently, skipping through the whole rest of the song right to the end as she stopped in front of the wolf's stall.

"Well," she said, placing her hands lightly on her hips, "I have some chores and things to do around this place, but I'll be by now and then to check up on you, and I'll have more beef for you in the evening."

He bobbed his head a bit in acknowledgement—perhaps a bit too intelligent and understanding for a wolf, but again, he wasn't particularly bothered by this little fact—and laid his head down. He had the urge to run, to get up and move, but he was still restricted by his healing legs. He knew he could probably move on them by now, but he didn't want to risk upsetting their healing process—or upsetting his caretaker, who would most definitely be suspicious if he just got up and started walking around.

But alas, to make up for this, there _was_ going to be more beef for dinner. It wasn't quite as fine a cut as steak would be, and if he wasn't a wolf he would prefer it a bit more cooked, but it was beef nonetheless.

* * *

That night, he had the same bizarre dream. At about the same time—or at least it felt like the same time to him—the barn door slid open, and the unknown white predator slunk into the stall with him. Its features were a little clearer this time, a little more well-defined, but he still couldn't tell exactly what it was. The long tail said it was not a wolf—some kind of cat then? Again, he just wasn't sure.

This dream was different though. Like before, something happened to agitate the white hunter, and a growl started deep in its throat. This time though, the animal rose and padded to the entrance of the stall as a shadow darted through the barn, and he heard the horse named Ronin whinny in what sounded like fear. The predator growled louder, snarling viciously, and the shadow darted by again. He had the sudden urge to stand, as if he knew he was in danger and needed to defend himself like this white beast was apparently trying to do. However, as this was a dream, his body refused to move, and he could only lay there.

The white predator darted forward a few steps, not straying too far from the stall, but then jerked as if something had struck it. It hissed, and this time something answered it, a growl that sounded almost like a cruel laugh. After that, everything was silent. The hunter turned back to him and the first, and only, splash of color in this bizarre dream of his caught his attention immediately. There was a spray of red across the animal's face, around colorless eyes that turned away from his gaze, dripping down long whiskers. Blood.


	4. Cry For Help

**A/N:** Hehe x3 Addiction is goooood.

* * *

**Chapter Three – "Cry For Help"**

Ginevra looked tired the next morning when she arrived with his breakfast—lamb chops today, as she decided that the wolf needed a diverse diet—and he thought briefly back to his dream. This time, she set the tray on the ground in the stall, and then sat down there as well, clearly not worried about being bitten. She was silent though as she watched him eat, no doubt taking in how much easier he moved now, evidently not hindered anymore by his previously cracked ribs, or by his supposedly still 'broken' legs. Other than her usual good morning, she hadn't spoken a word yet, and her lack of cheer puzzled him.

After he had eaten, he cocked his head to the side, and then nudged her softly with his nose. She started at the contact, as if having forgotten he was there despite gazing straight at him. She blinked a few times, running a hand back through her pale hair, and then rested her head on the side of the stall.

"Sorry," she apologized, "Just a little sleep deprived. Had nightmares last night. Kept me up."

He whined softly when she didn't continue, nudging her again, and she blinked at him.

"What?" she asked with a slight laugh, "You want to know about my troubles?"

He wagged his tail once, panting a bit, and she laughed again.

"A wolf, wants to know about my troubles," she said, shaking her head, but then reached out to ruffle his fur, seeming to be at ease around him after just these three days—well, two days, technically. "Alright Dr. Phil, I'll share."

He resisted rolling his eyes at the reference and rested his head on his paws, gazing at her attentively. He was limited with responses as a wolf—and he should be, anyway, since he wasn't supposed to reveal himself—but he found that he felt at ease with her, as she appeared to with him, and was inclined to hear of what was troubling her.

"It's just the same old…" she said quietly, looking down at her hands as she drew her knees to her chest, "Nightmares about my brother. He was…he died six years ago, when I was only eleven."

Whining sympathetically, he licked her hand. She was obviously alone—he hadn't seen or smelled anyone else, such as ones who would be her parents—and he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be all alone. If something happened to his dad…well, he couldn't even begin to consider how he'd cope. As annoying as the old man could be, he loved him nonetheless.

"Yeah, it's hard sometimes," she said in response to the lick, "I suppose that's why I have chickens named Bugs and Lola," she added with a laugh, attempting to lighten the mood she'd ended up creating.

"Anyway, look at you; all healed up and going to be off on your way soon," she continued, running her hands down the legs that had previously been broken, "Such a fast recovery."

Instead of being suspicious or surprised—any one of those he'd expected—she just sighed, seeming disappointed. "I suppose you have a family to get back to—a she-wolf and a litter of pups," she said.

He made a face—as well as a wolf could, anyway—at her mention of a family, and huffed.

"Or not," she laughed. "Well," she added, rising, "I have to take care of some things with Ronin and find out wherever Bugs wandered off to now—he's always getting lost, that silly chicken. He's lucky Elmer Fudd isn't around gunning for fowl instead of rabbits."

He rolled his eyes at her humor, though grinned a wolfy smile all the same.

"If you're still here in the evening, I'll have some more lamb for you," she said, sounding as if she were bribing him, hoping he'd stick around. And really, she hoped he _would_ be here in the evening.

* * *

He had remained the whole day, into the evening, and was indeed around to receive more lamb chops for dinner. Even after that, he stayed, much to her delight. Though the sun had set hours ago, and silence had settled over the farmhouse and barn. She was deep asleep, though her peace had already been shattered again by nightmares. In her dreams was her brother, primarily, but her parents guest-starred as well. She tossed and turned violently in her sleep, and from his place in the barn he could hear her whimpers and her voice as she talked to unknown persons.

His ears twitched in the direction of the farmhouse as her sleep talking grew louder. The words were too muddled, even for him to make out, but it sounded almost like she was pleading, begging. Unable to lay there anymore, he rose, standing for the first time in three days, since whatever had happened to land him in this situation. Quickly stretching out tense muscles, he gave his shaggy fur coat a good shake, sending bits of hay flying. This done, he made his way over to the barn door, nudging it open with his nose—an easy task for a large wolf, especially when the door hadn't been latched shut.

Finally, a chance to see the outdoors again. The surrounding woods were dark and unfamiliar as he trotted across the grass towards the farmhouse, though teeming with wildlife—owls, mice, raccoons, even a small herd of deer, off some distance away. He wasn't concerned with any of that though, his attention was on the sounds of Ginevra's nightmares. He stopped outside, underneath where he figured her window was, and debated on what he was going to do. What did he think he was going to be able to do—what _could_ he do? He certainly couldn't phase back—_that_ would be awkward, what with no clothes and all.

He had to do _something_ though—he felt compelled to. That same tugging on his memory, something about her, something that tried to trigger something primal in his mind. He circled around the house, trying to figure out a way in. He didn't peg her for the type to leave a window open, or a door unlocked, but after nosing open the screen door to the enclosed porch, he found that one of the front windows _was_ open. Hoping there was nothing breakable immediately on the other side, he scrambled through the window, barely fitting, and landed with a thump inside the house.

It was dark, of course, and silent save for the sound of her troubled whimpers from upstairs. The house was nice—large and roomy—but he wasn't really interested in a tour just now, and so started up the stairs as soon as he found them. Her whimpers suddenly turned to screams and he flinched, thinking that maybe something was actually causing her physical pain. As he bounded up the stairs and down the hallway though, he could smell nothing other than her human scent, mingled with the familiar odor of banana nut bread that also surrounded her.

The door to her room was only halfway shut, and he pushed it open silently—not that any sound would be easily detectable under her screams. He could tell what she was saying now, as the words were reverberating off the walls, echoing out into the night.

_Stay away from him! Stay away! Stay away from him, you monster! Monsters!_

Her words disturbed him, her anguished tone giving him chills, and he hastened to the side of the bed, nudging her arm repeatedly. She woke with a loud gasp, recoiling away at the sight of his shadowy form. He whined softly, and she blinked a few times, finally recognizing him. In the dark—with his wolf's vision—he watched the emotions flit across her face. Surprise, confusion, relief, all the while accompanied by a trace of pain.

Wordlessly she slid out of bed—luckily for both of them, wearing a tank top and sleep pants—and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was nothing he could do except let her cling to him and nuzzle her shoulder somewhat, so that was what he did. She began to sob into his fur, falling to her knees, and slowly, carefully, he laid down so that he wasn't towering over her. In a way, he was glad he was still a wolf—he wouldn't really know what to say to her right now if he'd been human, but for now it was simple. He simply had to be here.

She was trembling as she cried, her tears streaking through his fur, but he didn't mind that. He only wanted her to stop crying, to not be sad. Eventually her tears slowed, and then finally stopped as she took deep, shaky breathes, having worn herself out. She slid over onto her side, her eyes already closed as she nestled against him. Whimpering briefly, she laid her head against his side, one hand tangled in his russet fur. Shifting a bit, he curled up around her, lowering his head to his paws as he watched over her. She murmured slightly, but was already falling back to sleep, comforted by his presence.


	5. More Human Than Human

**A/N:** Ouch D= Getting teeth pulled is no fun-I've gotten a couple pulled myself. None wisdom teeth yet though. But I'm glad my story made you smile x3 Here we have the next chapter! The end makes me giggle x3

* * *

**Chapter Four – "More Human Than Human"**

It was late in the morning when Ginevra stirred—later than she usually slept, though at first she didn't remember why she didn't wake up sooner. She nuzzled her head against her pillow, yawning a bit, and instantly froze when she realized that her pillow was _breathing_. Along with being warm and furry. With a small squeak, she quickly raised her head, gazing at the large wolf that she had apparently been curled up with on the floor for most of the night. Of course he was already awake, looking at her with questioning eyes, and all at once she remembered what had happened the previous night—the nightmares, waking up screaming, crying her eyes out, and then falling asleep again.

She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest, and gazed down at the floor for a moment. "I…I'm sorry about…all of that," she said, ashamed about her moment of vulnerability.

The wolf nudged her, licking her arm, and she thought that he was telling her not to worry about it.

"Just…recently it's been so hard, and I have no idea why. Something's…" she didn't finish, shaking her head. _Something's different._ Ever since that night she'd dreamed about _him_, the wolf, things had been going haywire. She usually didn't have nightmares like these, but they were so vivid, so clear, like it was all happening all over again.

She looked over to him, trying to read his canine expression and tell what he was thinking. "I bet I scared you last night, didn't I?" she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, debating, and then decided to throw caution to the wind. He bobbed his head, up and down. She'd scared him all right, had sounded like some one was killing her for a moment there.

"Sorry," she cringed, not seeming at all surprised that he'd just—very intelligently—answered her question. "I bet you're wondering why I'm not surprised. And why I wasn't surprised by your swift recovery."

Eyeing her warily yet curiously, he nodded again.

She smiled a bit, running a hand through her unruly blonde hair in an attempt to smooth it down. "I didn't want to say anything sooner," she explained, "I didn't want to scare you off. I was waiting for a moment like this, that I knew you were comfortable around me. Though I'm still a bit worried that you'll run off and never come back," she added, trying to joke a bit.

He tilted his head quizzically, his ears twitching. What was she talking about? How could she have scared him off, he couldn't go anywhere before with broken legs, that's for sure.

"See…" she hesitated, biting her lip, and then continued all in a rush, "I know you're not just a wolf. I know that you're a shapeshifter."

His mouth fell open in shock—a particularly comical expression for a large wolf—and he just gazed at her. Here was another moment to be glad he wasn't in human form, or else he'd be stuttering like an idiot trying to come up with something to say to _that_. How could she possibly know? He'd never met this girl before in his life—at least, not that he remembered, what with the gaps in his memory still.

She held back a giggle at his expression, still fearful that he was going to bolt. "It was in my dream of you, that's how I know. That's also how I found you that night, when you were injured. It was all in my dream," she said, "I'd never had a dream like that before, so I took it as important, and obviously it was."

Of course, she was leaving things out for now—she didn't want to overload him with information just yet, especially when she suspected that he was pretty shocked as it was. She bit her lip again as she watched him, trying to figure out what was going through his head. "So…you're not going to run, are you? Not going to head for the hills and get as far away from this insane girl as possible?" she asked hesitantly.

Absently, his thoughts still primarily focused with the fact that she knew what he was, he nodded. He hadn't really paid attention to how she'd worded the question.

Her eyebrows raised, then furrowed together as she frowned, "You _are_ going to head for the hills?" she clarified.

Blinking at her for a moment, he shook his head.

She raised one eyebrow this time, "So you're _not_ going to jump ship and get away?"

Rolling his eyes a bit, he shook his head again—he wished she'd stop wording it differently and lengthily each time. It was probably the reason he'd given the wrong answer in the first place. He also wished he could ask her all of the questions that were now buzzing around through his head, but without a human mouth or thought connection to do so, he was left without answers.

"Alright…that's good," she said slowly, "And I take the fact that you haven't ripped me to shreds yet either a good thing too."

He gave her a surprised look, before huffing and looking away, clearly conveying that he was insulted she'd even think such a thing.

"Sorry," she amended quickly, "You're the first wolf I've met, and I'm not sure how the whole secrecy thing goes, and I get a little paranoid sometimes."

Looking back to her, he sighed somewhat dramatically and nudged her hand.

Taking it that she was forgiven, she poked his side, "Nice to see you have a sense of humor," she stated with a slight smile, referring to the sigh.

He barked briefly, the closest he could get to a laugh in this form. Really he was taking all of this very well—random girl in the woods has a dream about him, knows he's a shapeshifter and possibly ended up having saved his life while he's stuck with amnesia. Just another day—or few—in the life of the bizarre. Actually, this wasn't closest to the most bizarre things that had happened to him, like…some things he couldn't remember right now. Damned memory lose.

"Talking like this is kind of awkward…and one sided," Ginevra said after a moment.

He bobbed his head in agreement. All he could do was say yes or no, he couldn't ask her anything, couldn't say anything about himself, nothing.

"I bet you'd like to be human. Would make conversations much more interesting," she said.

Again he nodded.

"But then there's…yeah…" she said, her face flushing as he agreed with her yet again. She chewed on her lip as she thought, obviously trying to come up with something. "Oh!" she said after a moment, the figurative light-bulb going off over her head, "I still…have some of my brother's clothes, they might fit."

Wear something that belonged to a dead guy? Not his first choice, but it was better than wearing something that belonged to a vampire—or being naked. He nodded, agreeing to the idea, and she got to her feet, appearing nervous as she made her way out of the room. She went down the hall into the other bedroom, rummaging carefully through drawers until she found what she was looking for; a pair of black jeans that her brother had never worn because they were too big. Better to pick something that might be a little large than something too small after all, she thought to herself as she selected some other things to go along with it.

Returning to her bedroom, where she found her wolf friend sitting by the window, gazing out at the woods, she set the clothes on the bed. "Here," she said, having to literally force herself to speak just the one word and not stammer.

Quickly she left the room again without waiting for a response, closing the door behind her. Of course she was nervous—talking to a wolf, even a shapeshifter wolf, was one thing. That was something she was good at—talking to animals. It was talking to people that she would have trouble with. She hadn't had much of a chance to grow her social skills since the…incident eleven years ago, and after that all she'd interacted with really was her brother. Okay, so technically even as a wolf he counted as a person due to being a shapeshifter, but still.

Closing her eyes and trying to tell herself that she was _not_ listening for any little sound from beyond the closed door, she sat down, leaning back against what she assumed was the wall. She took even, deep breathes, calming herself. She heard a few bones cracking, and assumed that it was not from the shifting, but rather that he was stretching since becoming human again. Right, so telling herself that she wasn't listening…wasn't working. She could hear his voice—though muffled through the wall somewhat—as he talked to himself, but tried to force herself to not pay attention to the individual words. Though she ended up hearing something about the shirt not fitting or something anyway—not like her eavesdropping actually mattered to anyone—this was _her_ house after all.

And there just so happened to be a shapeshifter—a _guy_—in her bedroom.

It was amongst all of these thoughts that the door suddenly opened—and she realized that she hadn't been leaning against the wall at all, but the door itself. She toppled backward as her support was taken away, landing right on his feet, and for a moment longer refused to open her eyes.

"You think I'm that ugly already? You haven't even seen me," he said, and she flushed at the sound of his voice, cursing herself for mistaking the door for the wall.

Finally, she opened her eyes, gazing up at him. He seemed really tall, but she assumed that it was simply from the fact that she was on the floor at his feet, looking up at him up-side-down. "S-sorry," she said, "Thought the door was the wall."

She scrambled quickly to her feet, backing up a few steps as if she was afraid to be too close to him. Her eyes slid up his form—he was so tall! Possibly a full foot taller than her modest five-feet five-inches. She was surprised that the jeans fit at all, seeing how tight they were, and about an inch above his ankles. He was also shirtless, of course, and she forced her eyes not to linger, mostly for fear of her blush growing even worse—until her gaze came to rest on his face. She swayed slightly as she took in every detail. Her first real thought was that he was so handsome—such dark brown eyes, smooth dark skin that she had the urge to reach out and run her fingers along, short, messy black hair—and her second thought was that she'd seen him before. Not in the literal sense, but, in the way of major déjà vu.

So _this_ was what it was like. She was starting to feel light-headed, her entire world narrowing down until all she could see was him, the usual signs—things that happened right before she was about to faint. But this feeling also had another meaning, something much more important, and a slight smile curved her lips even as her knees started to buckle.

"It _is_ you," she said—or she thought she said it aloud—before darkness stole her away to unconsciousness.


	6. Evolution

**A/N:** Hehe x3 Yes he is.

* * *

**Chapter Five – "Evolution"**

_It_ is_ you._

That's what she'd said before she'd passed out, and even now, ten minutes later, he still had no idea what she meant. He'd carried her downstairs to the living room, laying her down on the couch, and had spent the whole time she was unconscious so far pacing about the house. What had caused her to pass out? He hoped it wasn't because she found him that ugly—as he'd joked before. That would be just his luck—he finds a nice, pretty girl out in the middle of nowhere who seems to be understanding about his being a shapeshifter and—

"Morning," her low, sweet voice caused him to jump, and he turned, seeing that she was awake.

"I'm…sorry about that," she apologized, sitting up and running her hands through her hair self-consciously, trying to tame it down.

"Are you okay?" he asked, standing somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine," she replied, "I must've just stood up too fast earlier, happens sometimes." She was lying, but it was the only thing she could think of.

She was afraid to look at him—afraid her eyes would linger too long on his bare chest—and yet she couldn't look away from him. She knew what it was she was feeling—knew what it had to be anyway—but she was still unsure about it. Did these things go both ways? Was it just her? Quickly, she averted her gaze, clearing her throat.

"I should thank you," he said before it slipped from his mind or he lost the chance to, "For…taking care of me, before."

"It was no problem," she replied shyly, glancing at him before quickly glancing away again.

He quirked a brow at the way she was acting, having already noticed her wandering gaze. "Does something about my appearance bother you?" he asked.

"Do you have a name, wolf-boy?" she replied, countering his question with one of her own, a delicate blush sweeping over her cheeks.

Her reaction amused him—at least she didn't think he was ugly, then—but for the sake of things, considering that she'd taken care of him and all, he decided to play nice and not make her feel even more uncomfortable. "It's Jacob," he said.

"Jacob," she repeated, testing out the sound of it, "That's a nice name." She glanced at him, then again, finally shaking her head and speaking aloud on something she'd been thinking, "You look like you're like…twenty-three."

He grinned, "I get that a lot. You're closer than most though, only seven years off."

Her eyes popped open wide as she considered this, automatically assuming that he meant seven years _younger_. "You're _sixteen_?" she exclaimed, and he nodded. "You're just a _baby_!"

"I am not!" he said indignantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest and looking away.

"Sorry," she said, biting back a giggle, "I only meant that you're younger than me. I wasn't expecting that."

"Sure, sure," he said, looking back to her. His tone said that he wasn't that upset.

"…Same age my brother was…" she murmured, her voice almost inaudible to human ears, but he heard her.

He looked at her questioningly, but she waved a hand, refusing to answer. "Nothing."

She inclined her head to the side, trying to forget their previous topic, "I've been wondering about something…if you don't mind me asking…what were you doing before you ended up falling over a cliff in the first place anyway? Why were you running?"

He gazed at her for a long moment, and then looked away. "It was a cliff? Well that explains it. I don't remember," he explained in response to her puzzled expression, "I don't remember why I was out here, or a lot of other things."

"Oh…" she blinked. Amnesia…she hadn't anticipated that. "I'm sure it's only temporary," she said, "You'll remember it all soon."

"Sure, sure," he said, not quite as optimistic as she was—he'd never had amnesia before after all. "Now I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"Why aren't you surprised that I'm a shapeshifter?"

"Oh, that." She suddenly appeared nervous again, and drew her knees up to her chest for a moment, "I suppose it would be easiest to just show you why." Chewing her thumb for a moment, she stood, moving towards the door, "In the barn would be best. More room and it wouldn't scare Ronin either."

"Why do you need more room?" he trailed after her somewhat hesitantly, but there was that primal tugging on his mind again that wouldn't let him _not_ follow her.

"You'll see," she replied after a moment, leading the way across the grass.

She was nervous about this, more than anything else before since her dream of him. This was it—the moment of truth. The moment that revealed if her assumptions proved right. She pushed open the barn door, and then slid it closed behind them once more. Ronin bobbed his head at their arrival, nickering softly, and then went back to sniffing at his empty food trough—obviously telling Ginevra that he was hungry.

"So what is…" Jacob started, turning back to where she'd been behind him—but she was no longer standing there.

"Up here."

There she was—crouched on one of the horizontal rafters above him, near the middle of the barn. Of course, that was at least fifteen feet above the ground, and there was no way to reach it in the blink of an eye. He didn't even have to ask how she'd gotten up there—the surprise was clear in his expression, along with a bit of suspicion.

"Sorry," she apologized, standing and walking along the beam with more ease and grace than some one on a tight-rope at the circus, "It's a nervous habit. Being up high makes me feel more comfortable."

She hoped that this would also give some clue as to what she was about to do—about to become. She also hoped that he'd remember those nights while he was still injured, and wouldn't think any differently of her. "Do you trust me?" she asked, walking back across the beam in the opposite direction, her eyes never once leaving him.

"Given that I've only known you three days, yeah, I guess," he said, watching her every move, ready to phase in case she suddenly turned on him.

"Good," she said, her eyes already starting to turn feral, "…Don't be alarmed."

She leaped down from the rafters, stretching her arms out in front of her. In midair, her form rippled, changing. It happened so fast that if he'd have blinked, he would have missed it. One second she was human, the next her clothes were fluttering through the air around her—all of them intact, as if they'd melted off of her a split second before the change happened. It had been so graceful, so natural, and when she hit the ground, she was a large white animal. A pure white tiger.

He took a step back as he gazed at her, eyes widening in surprise, "You! You're…"

_Yes. I'm a shapeshifter as well. Or werecat, I'm not entirely sure which_. The response came as the tiger prowled back and forth in front of him, not approaching but not backing away either.

"I can hear you!" that surprised him as well.

_Of course_, her thoughts were quizzical, _isn't it the same for you?_

He shook his head. "You're a…cat!"

_You don't have something against cats, do you?_ She asked, sounding genuinely worried.

He blinked at her for a moment. "No, I just…"

This explained so much. The reason she had a unique scent—banana nut bread—like she did, the reason she was so comfortable around animals, his wolf form in particular. This explained why her 'nervous habit' was escaping to some place high, and it also explained those nights. When he thought he'd been dreaming, they'd really happened, she'd really been there, protecting him as he slept while he was injured. But protecting him from what? What dangers were there way out here, in the middle of the forest?

"That was you, those nights," Jacob said.

_Yes._ The response was simple as the big cat stopped pacing, gazing directly at him, _I_ _was worried something would happen while you were unable to defend yourself._

"Worried about what? What did you fight with?"

Ginevra turned her feral eyes to the ground. She had no response to that, as she wasn't sure herself. All she knew was that it carried with it the sickly sweet smell of a vampire. A single vampire wouldn't cause her too much trouble though, but she hadn't fully engaged it that night for fear of leaving him exposed to attack. A single vampire now though, would prove even less of a threat for the _both_ of them, so she decided, for now, not to mention it.

Without warning, she began to morph back to human form, the action as graceful and natural as when she'd changed to tiger. His eyes widened, and he quickly moved to turn away, but as he did so, he noticed something…unique. Though she was now human again, white fur covered her feet, traveling up to her knees where it smoothed into skin, as well as covering her hands, where it transitioned to skin as well at her elbows. Most importantly though, white fur covered the necessary things, rendering her decent, technically, though she still scrambled to pick up her clothes as a blush was starting across her cheeks.

"What?" she asked when she looked up and caught him staring at her, her blush darkening.

"I've never seen that before—how do you—the fur—and your clothes, they're not ripped to shreds," he said all in a rush, averting his gaze.

She smiled sheepishly for a moment, picking up the last of her clothes and shaking hay from them, "It's a gift, I guess. I've never seen anyone else do it either."

It was then though that the barn door slid open, allowing a warm breeze in that blew with it a sickly sweet smell mingled with the salty scent of the ocean—though they were no where near the water. Jacob turned, wrinkling his nose at the sweet smell that stung—the scent of a _vampire_. The figure that stood in the doorway of the barn was tall and slender, dressed from head-to-toe in a mix of black leather and latex—a very punk-ish look. A single silver hoop gleamed in his lower lip, his snow pale skin made paler still by the way he was dressed, and his slightly long black hair with streaks of purple.

It was instantly aware to them both that he was a vampire—if his scent hadn't given him away, or his skin—or the fact that he was incredibly handsome—then his blazing blood red eyes certainly did. He carried with him a sense of danger and familiarity that caused Ginevra to clutch her clothes tightly against her chest with trembling hands as she regarded him with wide eyes. Subconsciously, Jacob took a few steps back towards her, standing half in front of her—protecting others was instilled in his blood, after all.

"Forgive me for intruding, I didn't mean to disrupt anything," the young looking vampire said in a voice low and akin to a purr as his red eyes flickered from one shapeshifter to the other with mild amusement.

"You have no place here, _leech_," Jacob spat—the eyes of this vampire said he fed off of—and killed, murdered—humans. He had little patience for vampires in general, but even less for these.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, gazing at him with an expression of mock indignation. "I mean no harm. My companions and I are only passing through, but the smell here was too curious to ignore-" his gaze swung to Ginevra, who was trembling, seeming to be in a state of mild shock, "-at least now we know who smells of banana nut, and who of wet dog." He smirked slightly at the end of his statement.

"The hell you don't," Jacob growled in response to the vampire meaning no harm, "You've satisfied your curiosity, now leave before you end up in pieces."

The vampire didn't move at first though, looking between the two of them. Another smirk curved his pale lips as his gaze switched back to Jacob upon noticing the trembling starting down his arms. At last, he nodded his head, briefly tapping black nails along the side of the barn door. "As you wish," he said, and then he was gone.

After a few moments—taking that bit of time to get his temper under control again—Jacob turned back to where Ginevra stood, starting to say something to her until he saw her expression. Her face was pale, and she was trembling, still staring at the spot where the vampire had been standing, as if she were in shock.

Frowning, he reached out to place a large hand on her bare shoulder, "Ginevra?"

She flinched at his touch, suddenly looking over to him, her eyes still wide. "He lied," she whispered.


	7. Hope

**A/N:** Khehe, you're exactly right; she did x3 But she's all shy about it cause she's never liked-especially never imprinted on-a guy before.

* * *

**Chapter Six – "Hope"**

"He lied," she repeated, feeling very small and vulnerable just covered with fur, still clutching her clothes to her chest.

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, still frowning, his hand still on her shoulder.

"He's—they're—not going to l-leave just like that," the blonde said, looking like at any moment she could dissolve into tears. "I know him; I know w-who he is."

He looked at her in confusion, not understanding how she could know this vampire when they'd both only just seen him. Unless there was something more, and there obviously seemed to be, from the way she was reacting, looking like she was about to start hyperventilating any second now.

"It was him and Narcyssa and Kaelan, I'll never forget their names, or their faces. Or their scents, never." She took a step back, her gaze sweeping around feverishly, and all at once her legs gave out.

He caught her quickly, holding her up, and she clung close to him as much as she could, still clutching her clothes. This was awkward, her being so close to him while still technically being naked.

"What did they do?" he asked, keeping his arm around her to hold her up nonetheless.

"They…they killed my parents…and my brother. They took everything from me," she whispered, hiding her face against the side of his chest. She couldn't help but notice how warm he was—more than warm, he was unusually hot.

He was quiet for a long moment—usually hearing of the things vampires did infuriated him, but this was different. This felt more personal, more upsetting. Again there was that tugging on his thoughts, this time it was so close, like being right on the verge of remembering a name that was on the tip of your tongue. But then it was gone once more, out of his almost-grasp. He could feel the anger sweeping over him, his temper approaching the snapping point. But he couldn't, not so close to Ginevra. He had to stay as calm as he possibly could.

"I'll destroy them," he said, his voice low and more threatening than if he'd shouted the words.

He turned, starting to leave the barn—he could follow the bloodsucker's scent easily, it was fresh and strong and he would have no trouble tracking him down and ripping him to pieces—but Ginevra caught him by the arm, her slender fingers cool and much stronger than a girl her size should be, and he hesitated.

"Don't," she said softly, "You can't take all three of them, not with what Narcyssa and Kaelan can do."

"They have powers?" Jacob inquired, turning back to her.

She nodded, averting her gaze as she quickly pulled her clothes on, having emerged from her state of shock. "The woman…she makes people stop moving-paralyzes them. But I'm not sure how…haven't really stuck around to find out," she said. "And Kaelan…" she hesitated, dressed again now, the fur fading out from her arms and legs, "…He's an illusionist. He can make copies of himself."

He nodded slowly, absorbing this information, "Leeches and their powers," he muttered under his breath, "What about the one that was here?"

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, "Doyle doesn't have any powers. Not that I'm aware of anyway."

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asked dryly, not upset with her, but rather the vampires, "Wait here for them?"

"Yes, actually," Ginevra replied, "It' better than you going after them alone, because I—I think I have an idea." She almost bit her tongue changing that last part—almost slipped, said something she didn't want to yet. Something she was still scared to say.

"Would this idea involve shredding those bloodsuckers?" he asked, oblivious to her near slip up.

"It would. We wait for them to come to us, separate them, and…yeah," she replied, pacing back and forth a little anxiously.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, nodding in approval. He was happy so long as he would get to destroy those vampires.

"They won't be back until tonight, so we have until then," she said, fighting down the urge to go and run to some place high, "They've…always struck at night. So I don't see any reason for them to deviate from that trait."

She didn't want to do this, didn't want to be standing here planning an attack against the three vampires who had killed her entire family. She didn't want to think that at nightfall they would be coming back and she'd have to fight them—she would rather let some one else take care of this, let Jacob take care of them like he'd wanted to. But she couldn't do that, couldn't let him face them alone like that, it was too dangerous—and she cared too much about him. She knew that she couldn't run from them any longer—for six years she'd thought she was free from them, but that's what she'd thought the other time. She'd been five when they'd killed her parents, and her brother had taken her away. Six years later they'd come back, and she'd lost him as well. This was the final time—she wouldn't lose some one else, not again, not ever.

Her mind wandered to that strange scent she'd caught that night-the night she'd found Jacob when he'd fallen over the cliff. It had been so strange, so familiar and yet not. The scent of a vampire—quite easily one of the three, since they proved to be in the area—and yet it was mingled with something she almost recognized. Or maybe it was that she was blocking it from her mind, preventing herself from fully remembering whatever it was. Either way, it unnerved her just to think about it, and she hoped that they never ran into the owner of that unique scent—because she had a terrible, dreading feeling about it.

* * *

She'd made breakfast for them both, and despite her anxiety, she found that she was starving. However, she paused to watch how much he was eating so fast. He'd requested four eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast—and she'd gladly made it all. It was something to distract herself, and the fact that she'd never cooked for anyone but herself before. She was just amazed that he was actually eating it all, and so fast, like he was starving.

Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up. "What?" he asked self-consciously.

"Nothing," she replied, looking back down at her plate as she stabbed at her eggs, "I've just never seen some one eat so much."

"I'm a growing boy," he mumbled, averting his gaze.

"My brother was a growing boy, and he never ate that much," she'd meant it jokingly, but it came out serious and a bit sad.

A moment of silence passed between them as she tried to figure out how to remedy the awkward situation she'd created.

"You miss him a lot, don't you?" Jacob asked.

She nodded, ducking her head. "He was such an awesome big brother. He saved my life so many times, we always looked out for each other," she said quietly, "We never really fought, like siblings usually do, we were…we…"

Surprising her, he reached across the table and laid a hand over hers. "We'll get them, for what they've done to you, and your family," he promised, "I'll make sure they never hurt you again."

He wasn't sure where these feelings came from, but he had the desire to protect her, to make her happy. He cared about her.

She blinked, her heart skipping at the contact, and her hopes soaring at the sentiment. "Thank you," she murmured shyly, blushing slightly as she looked back down at her plate once more.

She poked at her eggs again, her appetite escaping her somewhat as she thought ahead. "You're not worried?"

"About?" he asked, somewhat puzzled as he returned to attacking his breakfast—his other hand remained on hers.

"About those three, tonight," she said.

He shrugged, "Why should I be? They're only a couple of leeches."

Ginevra was quiet for a moment. "But what they've done…" she whispered.

"Don't worry," he said easily, "A vampire is no problem for me, freaky powers or not."

"But I-" she started.

He stopped then, inclining his head as he waited for her to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

She dropped her gaze to the table, "Yeah, sure."

She was still too scared to say what was really on her mind—she feared rejection, especially since she'd never really interacted much with anyone outside of her family. Sure, some of the people in town she talked to, but there wasn't anyone she felt even close to this way about. And, even more, it was because this was the most important thing that could happen to her, emotionally speaking. She remembered hearing her parents talk about it way back before everything started, but she didn't remember what they'd called it, or anything more specific. She'd asked her brother about it once, but he'd disregarded the idea of it because he was too pre-occupied taking care of the both of them to worry about some silly matter like that.

She looked back up to Jacob once, enough to see his still questioning gaze, and shook her head, refusing to speak any more on the subject.


	8. Hysteria

**A/N:** Thank you =3 Ahh, another chapter, and a slight bit of romance.

* * *

**Chapter Seven – "Hysteria"**

Night was approaching swiftly now, and every minute that passed made her more and more anxious. Her anxiety was clear in her actions—like right now, she was pacing back and forth across the sloping roof of the farmhouse. Human, but there doing a very cat-like thing nonetheless. The height comforted her for now, made her feel somewhat more secure as she watched the sun sinking behind the tall evergreens. She was itching to be the tiger—the added power and confidence would further soothe her, but it was too soon for that, so pacing on the roof would have to do.

"You're going to wear a hole through the shingles," he said jokingly.

She jumped slightly, having not been aware that he was there, and turned to see him sitting at the open attic window. "I think they'll hold up," she replied, trying to keep the mood light.

"Seriously, you shouldn't worry so much," he said, watching her start pacing again, "You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

She smiled thinly as she balanced easily on the sloped roof, "Probably too late for that." If she was going to get an ulcer from worrying, she would have started to get one about twelve years ago.

Ginevra threw another glance to the sky, stopping where she was as she sighed. "They'll be coming soon," she stated.

Which meant they'd be splitting up soon—her to the barn while he stayed in the farmhouse. It had been his idea—which she hadn't readily agreed to—that he apparently assumed would make it easier to catch the three vampires split up. She hadn't really liked this idea then, and still didn't like it now, but he'd been very pushy about it—much more pushy than she'd ever imagined he would be—and hadn't let it rest until she went along with it. She just wasn't fond of the idea of either of them going up against any of the three alone.

Spinning about to face him again, she bit her lip, considering something. "There's something I want to say, before all of this starts."

"Yeah?" he asked, slightly worried by her serious tone.

"I…" she hesitated, the words freezing in her throat, "…Be careful?"

He rolled his eyes, looking away. Her concern was appreciated, but not needed—he wasn't a baby after all, as she'd stated earlier. "Sure, sure."

Oh screw it, forget being scared for this moment—if she didn't do or say something before all of this started tonight, and something happened to either of them, she'd never forgive herself for losing her chance.

"Jacob."

He turned his head at the sound of her voice, so soft and impossibly close considering that just a second before she'd been standing near the opposite end of the roof, to see that she was right in front of him. He didn't have the chance to speak, or even fully realize what the look in her eyes said she was about to do before she pressed her lips against his. The action was soft, hesitant, but full of emotion. She lingered there for a few extra seconds, and then pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye because she was afraid of what she would see there.

If she had met his gaze though, she would have seen surprise—not of the bad kind either—a pleasant surprise. Her kiss had caught him completely off guard—no one had kissed _him_ before, after all, and it also triggered that tugging on his thoughts again. It was stronger this time, still out of his grasp, but so close to the surface of remembrance that he knew it would become clear to him soon.

Backing away, she spun, hiding the blush that was spreading across her cheeks, and dashed across the rooftop. She leaped out into space, stretching her arms out in front of her—like Superman, she thought idly, but the idea failed to amuse her right now—and her clothes melted away from her body to flutter in the air around her as she morphed into the white tiger. She'd have to collect those clothes later, but they didn't matter much to her right now as she landed silently on the grass, large paws absorbing her weight. If only she'd have looked back—just once, just for a second—she would have seen the smile on his handsome face as he blushed slightly himself.

Instead, she'd have to carry her fears with her until after the fighting was over this night as she made her way swiftly to the barn, slinking between slightly open doors to leap up into the rafters. Pacing along one narrow beam, the feat seeming impossible for an animal her size, and yet in reality so very easy, she threw her gaze to the barn below. Ronin was standing peacefully in his stall, already used to having her randomly appear as a tiger, and at the opposite end of the barn, the chickens Lola and Dapple sat side-by-side, heads tucked into their feathers as they slept.

The sun was all but gone now, and she lay down on the beam, tail hanging down as she rested her head on her paws. Maybe they wouldn't come; maybe they'd moved on to a new game and wouldn't bother her anymore. She knew that wasn't true though, no matter how much she wished it to be—they weren't done with her yet, there was still more pain to be caused in their sick little game.

Abruptly, she knew that she was not alone in the barn. She hadn't heard the doors open more, or any tell-tale footsteps, but a scent pierced her nose, sent a thrill of fear through her body. Sickly sweet, cold, accompanied by the smell of plums. She lifted her head silently, looking to the window that was set near the roof of the barn—the sun had dipped below the trees, casting the land into darkness and shadows.

"I know you're in here," a voice said—low and seductive, yet friendly at the same time, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty."

Her tail swished in disdain—she knew that voice, that scent—and turned her eyes down below. With her cat's eyes, the figure—the vampire—was clearly illuminated in sharp detail. He was fairly tall, with a slender form and skin as pale and cold as snow. He wore black from head-to-toe, adorned with straps and buckles—very punk-ish, just like Doyle—and two silver hoops gleamed in his lower lip. His black hair was fairly long, streaked through with blonde, coupled with blazing blood red eyes.

She remained where she was, slowly, silently, rising to her feet as she awaited the exact moment to strike. As soon as he was directly below her, then she would pounce.

"I only want to play," Kaelan coerced.

She resisted the urge to growl. Almost, just a little closer. But suddenly, there was a breeze next to her, causing her to tear her eyes away from the figure below. Her feline eyes widened when she saw him perched on the beam next to her—he'd tricked her, she'd been watching an illusion below. She started to move, to turn as quickly as she could on the narrow rafter, but he kicked her. The blow caught her in the side, sending her flying back to crash into the side of the barn. The wooden planks rattled and groaned under the impact, but held. She tumbled down to the ground, nearly landing on Lola and Dapple and startling the hens.

As the chickens squawked and dashed away, Ginevra rolled to her feet, shaking off the blow. By the time she'd turned, Kaelan—the real Kaelan—was standing near the middle of the barn, slowly striding towards her. Crouching down, she hissed, lips curling back from her long teeth. He stopped where he was, inclining his head slightly and looking insulted.

"You don't want to play?" he asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

She knew that despite his childish words and demeanor, he was not childish at all when it came down to it. He was undoubtedly sadistic and brutal—she'd been unfortunate enough to see this in person years ago.

She growled lowly—still a threatening sound coming from a tiger. _As if, filth. I want nothing more than to see you burn_.

The ferocity of her words—her thoughts—surprised even her. Perhaps Jacob was rubbing off on her already.

Apparently Kaelan found her response amusing though, as a grin perched itself on his handsome face. "So bold, little kitty-cat. Where was this confidence the last time we met? Or when I was bleeding your parents dry?" he taunted.

_Shut up!_ Her words were shouted, accompanied by a vicious snarl.

He laughed at her, spreading his arms in a challenging gesture, black bangs falling across his red eyes as he regarded her with a smirk. "I think it would be much more fun if you tried to make me, kitty-cat." He stretched one hand out towards her, making a beckoning motion with his long, slender fingers.

Glaring at him, she sucked in a breath—and let out a roar that echoed through the entire clearing. The roar of a tiger is one of the most threatening sounds, enough to make grown men turn tail and run away screaming, enough to let every animal know who the boss was. Her roar startled Ronin—he'd never heard it before in such close proximity—and caused Lola and Dapple to dash from one stall to another in panic, and yet Kaelan continued to stand there, a smirk on his face. Even before the roar had completely faded into silence, she was running forward, powerful muscles rippling beneath the white fur as she leaped into the air, claws outstretched towards the vampire.


	9. Leave Out All the Rest

**A/N:** x3 That she is. Lucky, I mean xD

So far, I've named nearly every chapter of this fic after a song I feel fits the chapter in some way or part or relates to it or inspired it; Chap 1-Full Moon by The Black Ghosts, Chap 3-Cry For Help by Shinedown, Chap 4-More Human Than Human by Rob Zombie, Chap 5-Evolution by Korn, Chap 6-Hope by melody., Chap 7-Hysteria by Muse, and this chapter-Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park. I decided to mention this now so I won't have a whole ton of things to list xD

* * *

**Chapter Eight – "Leave Out All the Rest"**

Once the sun was hidden behind the trees and shadows fell across the clearing, Jacob didn't have long to wait before one of the bloodsuckers showed his face. In fact, Doyle strode quite boldly right into the farmhouse through the front door. He recognized the vampire immediately by both sight and scent, and wasted no time in letting the leech have time to react to his presence. The large russet wolf dashed from where he'd been waiting and leaped onto the vampire, knocking him back through the open front door, across the porch, and straight through the screen siding. Whoops—he'd have to help Ginevra fix that when this was all over, but right now it was the least of his worries.

As they hit the grass, he opened his jaws, moving to lock them around the vampire's head so that he could commence ripping him limb from limb. Doyle reacted swiftly though, wrapping his hands around Jacob's jaws, holding him off. His teeth sliced into the vampire's diamond-hard skin as he struggled to free himself, but Doyle seemed oblivious to the wounds. He was stronger than Jacob had anticipated, and he struggled to free himself from the vampire before Doyle could tear his face apart.

There was a bone-shaking roar that suddenly cut through the air—it could belong to no one other than Ginevra—and it startled him somewhat, as he obviously had not been expecting it. Apparently it distracted his vampiric foe for a moment as well, and the wolf was able to pull himself free. With an unworried smirk, Doyle drew back a torn fist and punched his opponent, sending the wolf tumbling back.

"You'll have to try harder than that, wolfy," Doyle said upon standing, brushing off his clothes.

Jacob growled in response, lunging at the vampire. His foe met the attack with outstretched hands, tangling strong fingers through the russet fur around his neck and holding him off while taking a step back to steady himself from the impact. Paws lashed out, claws ripping through leather and latex and skin. Doyle growled in annoyance, releasing the wolf and darting out of the way with a lightning quick motion.

* * *

Again she struck out with a large paw, and again Kaelan danced out of the way. She was finding his speed infuriating—she hadn't been able to land a single blow yet. With a frustrated snarl, she circled around where he was standing, waiting for the choice moment to strike again. He turned with her to keep her in sight—not that his other senses wouldn't alert him to an attack—a smirk on his face. Darting forward, she swiped at his leg, but he was gone before she could blink, and there was a stabbing pain as his sharp black nails ripped down through her shoulder.

She hissed at the wound, stumbling for a second before it started to heal itself. As she regarded him warily, she suddenly realized what she had to do. If she anticipated his dodges, she might be able to hit him while he wasn't expecting it.

"You're certainly putting up quite a fight," Kaelan said, inclining his head slightly, "Too bad it's not doing you any good so far."

She growled, refusing to give him an answer, and slunk towards him, preparing to attack. As she'd expected this time, he dodged to the side, and she followed his blur of motion. She leaped, landing on him in mid-step and bringing him down to the ground. Not planning on giving him time to react, she moved with all the swiftness of a tiger and lowered her head to close his neck in her jaws. Before she could close her mouth with crushing force though, there was suddenly another presence in the barn with them. A kick caught her in the side, stealing all the air from her lungs. The second kick resulted in a dim crack and knocked her off of Kaelan, her teeth scratching along his skin but not doing much more, sending her crashing through a stall door.

"Bitch!" she heard a melodic voice growl as she tried to remember how to breathe again.

Ginevra lifted her head, watching through slightly blurred vision as Kaelan got to his feet in a single, fluid motion, placing a hand on the shoulder of the woman who'd prevented his possible demise. She was a beautiful creature—slender, pale skin, dressed in some kind of flattering gothic style, short black hair streaked with white framing her face—despite the fact that her blood red eyes were blazing in anger.

"There, there, Narc, everything's alright," he said reassuringly.

"That bitch!" she repeated, obviously angry that the tiger had nearly ended her mate's life—or at least almost made it very painful.

Ginevra remembered how to breathe now, sucking in a deep breathe that caused a flare of pain in her side where she could only assume that Narcyssa had cracked a rib. The woman smelled of vanilla, and it almost would have been comforting—if it hadn't been mixed with the scent of a vampire.

"I can take care of this," Kaelan soothed, "Why don't you go assist Doyle with the dog?" He seemed to want to deal with Ginevra solely by himself.

After a second, Narcyssa turned to him, laying a hand on his cheek. "As you wish, Kael," she said, kissing him lightly.

Throwing a last glare at Ginevra, the woman was gone.

Ignoring the pain in her side, the white tiger got to her feet, shaking off splinters. She regarded Kaelan with caution and hatred as she slowly made her way from the stall, out into the main barn again, ready for any sudden movement.

"You'll have to forgive her," he said, as if it really mattered—or he really cared, "She's a little over protective."

Ginevra growled lowly, her tail swishing in anger as she waited for him to be through with his banter.

"Oh, that's right," he said absently, as if just remembering that they were supposed to be having a fight to the death, "Now where were we?"

* * *

His jaws were locked around Doyle's forearm as the vampire fought to free himself, his other hand wrapped around the russet wolf's muzzle as he attempted to pull him off. He should his head viciously though, like a dog with a bone, and his teeth sliced deeper into his opponent's skin. Doyle released his muzzle to tangle that hand in the fur at Jacob's neck, apparently going to attempt choking him, but he reacted swiftly. Biting down harder, he wrenched to the side, severing the vampire's arm just below the elbow. He threw the limb off into the darkness, glad to be rid of the foul tasting flesh, and regarded the wounded bloodsucker.

Doyle merely blinked, looking down at what remained of his arm. "How unpleasant," he said, ever calm.

Of course, that was right before he hauled Jacob straight up into the air with his other hand, and flung him to the ground behind him. There was a reason why he was the strongest of the three, after all. The move surprised him, even disorientated him somewhat, but didn't do much else. There was a slight scrambling of his thoughts when his head hit the ground, and for a moment, the door that had been locked for so many days came lose. Just for a second though, and then it was shut again. Close, so close.

He sprang nimbly to his feet, snapping at Doyle. The vampire dodged to the side easily, driving an elbow into the back of his opponent's neck—a blow that would have snapped the neck of a lesser being, but this wolf could handle the physical abuse. Again, there was a shifting of his thought processes as Jacob backed away from the bloodsucker for the moment, swiftly planning his next move. This time though, the previously locked doors in his mind were flung open—and they stayed open. Every memory that the fall over the cliff had stolen from him was returned, and they all came washing over him at once like a tidal wave. The pain and heartache hit him, everything that happened with Bella—the wedding invitation—her imminent wedding to that filthy leech, her rejection of him, knowing he would always be second best.

He weakened under the weight of all of this, and he wished bitterly to be returned to his blissful ignorance. For a moment, everything he was doing here seemed so pointless—in fact, for a second, he forgot why he was here in the first place, so overwhelmed with his returned memories he was. There was a distant crash of splintering wood, a brief feline yowl, and he rose from his reverie, suddenly remembering what was going on around him. However, he looked up at entirely the wrong time—he lifted his head to find himself gazing into the blood red eyes of a female vampire, and suddenly his entire body froze. Every muscle locked into place, and he found himself utterly unable to move—paralyzed.

"There," the woman said with a dangerous smirk, not looking away, not even blinking, "That's so much better."


	10. Unintended

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews =D Kehehe x3 I love cliffhanger chapters. This is my favorite chapter so far x3 As well as the longest. This chapter contains one of my favorite parts so far. The title song is Unintended, by Muse, which I think fits said part beautifully.

* * *

**Chapter Nine – "Unintended"**

Kaelan struck blow after blow on her, while she only managed to get in a swipe of her claws or a bite every now and then. His speed was so infuriating, as was his continued casual, friendly banter which she chose—by now—to not answer any more. Her side was aching where Narcyssa had broken a rib, unable to start to heal because Kaelan had the keen ability to strike that exact place whenever he fancied the idea. He seemed to be even faster than earlier—perhaps he'd been holding back before—and her notion of countering his dodges only worked every other time at best now.

She had to put an end to him though, she was worried now that Narcyssa was out there too—she didn't know how the woman's paralyzing ability worked, and…she was worried about Jacob. She leaped at her vampiric foe, not really expecting to hit him, but she did. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, her large paws sliding behind him, claws digging into his back. He stumbled back a step from the weight of the tiger, and wasted no time in wrapping his hands around her paws, wrenching them free and loosening her hold on him. Her claws tore gouges in his back, and her teeth ripped a chunk from his shoulder when he pulled her off of him.

Despite all of this though, he flung her through the air towards the barn doors. Ginevra crashed through the doors, the wood splintering around her, and let out a yowl of pain when she hit the ground. A long, jagged section of wood had embedded itself in her side—not deep enough to be fatal, but enough to be painful. She twisted her head back, biting onto the piece of wood, and pulled it out as swiftly as she could. Forcing herself to her feet again despite the blood that was seeping from the wound, turning her white fur red, she swung her gaze about to see where Jacob was.

Her feline eyes landed on the scene by the farm house—the large russet wolf paralyzed by Narcyssa while Doyle—though only with one arm left—strode towards him with a smug confidence that said he was in no hurry because his foe wasn't going anywhere. Ginevra snarled, the sound not at all hushed, but neither of the vampires so much as even acknowledged her. She acted before Kaelan could emerge from the barn and use his speed or illusions to stop her, and broke into a run towards the other three. Doyle looked over to her at her approach, but made no move towards her—her aim was for Narcyssa after all.

At the last second, the female vampire looked away from Jacob, turning to meet Ginevra as the pure white tiger leaped on her, knocking her back off her feet. The two wrestled for a moment, Narcyssa trying to lock Ginevra's head between her hands to force eye contact. Very simply though, she closed her feline eyes so that there would be no chances for her to be paralyzed—because that's how it worked, she saw now, through direct eye contact—and blindly captured the vampire's neck in her powerful jaws. She bit down swiftly as the woman fought against her, her nails raking across the tiger's face and shoulders, trying to ignore the sounds she was making, and wrenched side-to-side until there was a sickening crunch, and she'd severed the vampire's spine.

She threw the head off into the darkness, her eyes remaining closed as she didn't want to see what she was doing—she'd never killed a sentient creature before, and the thought sickened her, even if they were the vampires responsible for the deaths of her family. Narcyssa's hands were still clawing at her, seeming to be intent on permanently blinding her—luckily though, they couldn't actually find her eyes yet—and the tiger bit at those hands, mangling the perfect skin with her sharp teeth before biting down on the flailing arms themselves. She ripped each arm off messily, the thought—along with the foul taste and smell of the vampire's flesh—made her stomach roil. The predator in her said that killing was natural, but the human pointed out that killing _vampires_ was _not_ natural.

At last she opened her eyes again, remembering that there was a world around her that consisted of more than the mangled body beneath her claws. The wounds on her face and shoulders stung, dripping blood through her fur that she shook away from her eyes, but they were only superficial wounds, and they would heal soon enough. Aware of what was going on around her again, the growls of a wolf met her ears, and she looked over to see Jacob and Doyle locked in combat, the vampire able to hold his own despite missing nearly all of one arm.

The scent of plums surrounded her though, and she shifted her attention to see Kaelan standing some feet away from her. If looks could kill then she most certainly would have been dead under the weight of his glare—and was at that moment glad he possessed no such power—and she knew it was because she'd just finished dismembering his mate. She took a few steps forward, a growl starting low in her throat. In the time it took her to blink, there were five identical Kaelans standing before her, and she did a double-take, trying to figure out which one of them was the real one.

As one, they stepped towards her, forming a semi-circle, and she took a step back, hissing as she tried to watch all of them at once. There was a blur of motion, a kick landed on her left shoulder with enough force to shatter the bones of a lesser being, but to her it was almost enough to dislocate the joint, and she snarled, leaping towards the Kaelan she thought was responsible. The illusion merely flickered out of existence as she hit it, and a blow caught her in her bleeding side as she turned.

"You'll have to do better than that, kitty-cat," he chastised as she hissed in pain.

Ginevra lunged again, hitting another illusion as a weight slammed into her side. She skidded, almost falling over, but a pair of hands wrapped around her neck, lifting her half off her feet and making it hard for her to breathe. She struck out over and over with her massive paws, but the deep slashes her claws inflicted on his marble skin seemed to mean nothing to the vampire.

"You're stronger than I expected," Kaelan purred as his two remaining illusions vanished, "But I'll still have you begging for mercy, begging for death."

His hands squeezed tightly, blocking off her air, and the lack of oxygen sent her body into a panic. _Breathe!_ It shouted, _figure out a way! Do something, anything!_ Instinctively, she morphed back to human, delicate patches of white fur covering her body as before. She knew she stood less of a chance of defeating Kaelan human, but her survival instincts had said this was the best way to breathe. Surprisingly, the notion had been correct, as she slid from his grasp, landing in a gasping heap at his feet as she sucked in deep breathes of air.

Tangling his hand in her blood streaked hair, he hauled to her feet, delivering a sharp punch to her side—to her broken rib, to the stab wound from the piece of wood—and she bit her lip, grimacing, trying not to give him the satisfaction of her obvious pain. He smirked at her and she hissed, clawing at his face. Her nails left three long scratches across his perfect skin. Growling slightly in annoyance, he threw her though the air. As she fell, she twisted over in midair, landing in a cat-like crouch on her feet, her fingertips brushing the ground.

She hissed again, moving to morph back to the white tiger so that she could rip him apart, but suddenly he was right in front of her. He dealt a surprisingly soft—soft for a vampire, that is—punch to her neck, and she stumbled back a step, coughing and gasping at the blow, for a moment unable to breathe again. He wrapped his hand tightly in her pale hair, snapping her head back, and she winced, clawing at his face again. Trapping both of her wrists in his free hand, he twisted them behind her back, nearly dislocating one of her arms in the process. She struggled not to let the pain show on her face as she fought to free herself, planning on morphing anyway, but she froze when she felt his teeth scrape against her neck—not breaking the skin, not yet, but the threat was evident as he smirked darkly.

Only one thing came to her mind at this moment, only one word that sprang to her lips—a name. "Jacob!"

He started at the sound of her voice, not having paid her much attention at all since regaining his memories just a few minutes previous—his feelings for her felt so trivial in comparison with how he felt for Bella, after all—but he found he could not ignore her, and immediately broke away from his fight with Doyle to turn in her direction. That was all it took—one look at Ginevra's face—beautiful despite the streaks of blood—as the pale, fragile-seeming shapeshifter fought to escape from the vampire that held her captive. At that moment, everything else was wiped from his mind, it was gone, all of it—his heartache over Bella, his hatred towards Edward and the others, the pack, his dad—none of it mattered to him any more in this single instant.

He was floating, free of it all and yet not free from everything—everything that mattered to him right now, the most important thing to him, was Ginevra. In this split second of seeing her human appearance, she had become the center of his world. Now he understood what that tugging in his mind had been all those times before—it had been this, the instinct to imprint, to know that he had found the one for him, battling against an amnesia so great that it covered up this part of him as well until this night. _It was her_—the words reminded him of what she'd said that morning—_it_ is _you_. Could she possibly…?

All of this took place in the course of a second and a half—this incredible change happened so fast that no one around him could ever fathom what had just taken place—and the next split second he was filled with an unrivaled rage that brought forth a menacing snarl. As he leapt forward, running towards the captor and captive, his eyes were locked onto the filthy bloodsucker whose head was bent over her neck, posed to sink his teeth into her skin, to infect her with the vampire's venom or end her life right then and there. Kaelan never looked away from the large wolf that was heading straight towards him, quite obviously not bothered at all, and at the last minute, he threw Ginevra away from him, meeting Jacob's attack with outstretched arms.

To her, the move seemed like suicide—meeting the attack of a clearly enraged shapeshifter with open arms?—or maybe he had some kind of insane idea. Who was to know—the vampire's mind was like a Rubik's Cube to her at any rate. She hit the ground hard, not having expected to be flung away, but was quite grateful to find herself with her neck intact. Taking a second to catch her breath, she watched with wide eyes as the wolf and vampire fought, not able to tell at any particular time who had the upper hand. She wasn't sure who was snarling, who was growling—they both sounded the same at this moment, enraged animals. She looked up to see Doyle coming towards the battling pair, most likely planning on catching Jacob by surprise, and she gave a growl of her own.

Sprinting forward—and ignoring the pain from her wounds—she leaped towards the leader of the three, morphing to tiger in midair and hitting him with outstretched claws. The impact of her weight caused him to stumble back, but he managed to stay on his feet, moving his remaining hand under her chin, trying to keep her feline fangs away and also perhaps break her neck. With a snarl, she shifted her attention, crunching her jaws down on his upper arm. She shook her head viciously, not completely severing his arm, but leaving it hanging there in a mess, supported solely by the bones. He was saying something—growling something at her—but she couldn't make out the words, nor did she really care what he was saying.

Giving in to the instincts of the tiger as he finally lost his footing, going down to the ground, she locked her teeth around his neck, utterly numb to the taste and smell of vampire flesh at this time, deaf to the horrible sounds he—and Kaelan—were making. It was like she was retreating into a safe corner of her mind while all of this was going on, refusing to be aware of any of it, perhaps for fear that this made her just as bad as them.

When she became aware of herself again, she was lying on her side—very human—curled up into a fetal position with her back against the side of the barn, one hand over her side where her broken rib and stab wound were. Her eyes were wide and somewhat glassy as she tried to tell herself that the earlier events of the night were all over with—just a bad dream even, like they'd never happened at all. However, her attention was drawn to the crackling sounds of a fire, and the sickeningly sweet, noxious scent that filled the air, stinging her nose and making her feel like coughing—the scent of burning vampire flesh.

There was a figure suddenly crouching down by her side, their presence startling her at first until she recognized the voice. "Ginevra? Ginevra, are you okay?" his words were soft, genuinely concerned, "Are you hurt?"

He gently tugged her hand away from her side, seeing that only a smear of blood remained—the wounds there had healed already, just like the ones on her face and shoulders, leaving behind slight streaks of red only. This relieved him, but…was she _alright_? Emotionally, mentally?

"Ginevra?" he smoothed her hair back from her face, hoping for a response from her—and he dared to use the nickname that had occurred to him over the time he'd been here, "Eve?"

She blinked at the moniker—_Eve?_ She thought to herself, _how did he possibly come up with that?_ At any rate though, she blinked, finally looking at him—glad to see that he'd gone back to the house to retrieve his borrowed jeans. "…They're gone?" she whispered.

"Yes," Jacob nodded, "They'll never hurt you again, just like I promised."

She just blinked at him for a moment more, rising up from the haze that had engulfed her mind, and then uncurled from her defensive position. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his shoulder, and he pulled her close, holding her protectively. She found comfort in his extreme body heat, as before she had felt frigid and numb. There was something so right, so…intimate about this simple moment, and she felt even more naked than she was, only covered with white fur streaked with blood in places. However, this was soon to be interrupted.

"Ginevra?"

The sound of his voice froze her in place, her eyes opening wide. A chill ran down her spine as she tried to tell herself that it was impossible—she couldn't have just heard that voice. It had been six years since she'd last seen him alive. Six years since he'd been murdered by the three vampires whose remains were now burning.


	11. Apocalypse Please

**A/N:** Ah, another chapter, and quite an interesting one x3 Somewhat less cliffhanger-like at the end. Insult included near the end not meant to offend anybody. It took me forever to come up with as it is—since I'm a nice person and never insult people xD; and I even felt bad insulting a fictional character. Okay, rabble-babble over, here's the chapter. Oh, title song is Apocalypse Please, by Muse.

* * *

**Chapter Ten – "Apocalypse Please"**

"Ginny?"

That childhood nickname—it had to be him! No one else had ever called her that. She pulled away from Jacob, springing to her feet and turning. There was a figure standing some yards away, shrouded in shadows, features hidden by a dark hooded sweatshirt. His voice was a bit rougher than she'd remembered, more of a growl, but the breeze shifted, and she caught his scent—cinnamon, the same as always. Jacob started to protest, but she didn't hear what he was trying to say.

"Remy!" she was overwhelmed with joy as she covered the distance between them, flinging her arms around the figure. Alive! He was alive!

"All these years I thought you were dead! But here you are, and…and…" she broke off, fighting back tears as she clung to him, his oh-so-familiar cinnamon scent lulling her into a sense of peace.

"Don't cry, Gin," he said, shortening her name even more as he wrapped an arm around her, stroking the back of her head soothingly.

"All this time—where have you been?" she asked, taking shaky deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

"I'm sorry," he said, resting his head on top of hers, "I'm sorry I couldn't be around before."

"Why? Why couldn't you? I've been alone all these years," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly.

"Ginevra." The tone of Jacob's voice caused her to pull back slightly, frowning. "You need to get away from him."

"But why?" she asked, "He's-"

"Actually, Ginny, I think your friend's right," Remy said, raising his head.

"I…don't understand," she said, releasing him and taking a step back. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"Ginevra," Jacob said again, sounding anxious.

"Remy? What's going on?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his shadowed form.

"It's…complicated," he said with a sigh, "And…I'm finding it hard to control myself."

"Remy…you're scaring me." Her voice was soft, confused.

"Maybe you should be," he said simply, raising his right hand and pulling back the hood that covered his face.

She took a step back in surprise, her eyes widening in horror. His skin was pale as ice, no longer deeply tanned like she'd remembered. His shaggy hair was still so black that almost appeared blue, but his eyes were no longer the color of the sky—the right was feral, while the left blood red. Twin black cat's ears sprouted near the top of his head, and his nose and mouth were more feline-like. She took another step back, raising a trembling hand to cover her mouth as he pulled up the left sleeve of the sweatshirt he wore—and she saw that his left arm ended in a large, black furred paw. She also saw now that he was barefoot—his legs transitioned into cat's legs from the knee down.

"Oh…Remy…" she whispered breathlessly.

"He's a _vampire_," Jacob stated bluntly.

"I guess," Remy said with a shrug, "This is what happens when a shapeshifter is infected with their venom. I've become a monster."

"He should be destroyed."

Ginevra spun at his careless words, hissing at Jacob as he started to take a step forward. "You won't be doing any such thing!" she growled, the ferocity behind her words freezing him into place, "_He's my brother!_"

"Am I still, Gin? I've changed a lot. The years I've spent with those three have made me into some one even I hate," Remy said, "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've done, and I'm afraid to say that I hate you more than I love you any more."

Her eyes were wounded as she turned back to him, but she held her composure—for now. "You won't hurt me," she said simply.

"Don't put your trust in me like that," he said quietly, shaking his head, "There's a part of me that would like nothing more than to see you bleed. And yet there's another part that says I could never do such a thing, because you're Gin, the little sister I gave my life to protect."

"Remy…" she whispered, starting to take a step forward.

Abruptly, Jacob was at her side, pulling her back some feet to what she assumed was what he considered a safe distance, before placing himself in front of her—in-between her and Remy. Her brother lowered his head, refusing to look at them for a moment as he pulled the sleeve back down over his left arm somewhat self-consciously.

"I see you've found yourself a bodyguard," he said at last, looking up again.

He received no response, but that didn't seem to daunt him—he appeared reluctant to just walk away after all these years, despite that he was having a mental conflict on the matter of ripping them both to shreds. Over the years, he grown to hate many things—humans, shapeshifters, werecats…himself. It pained him the most that he was now torn between hating and loving his own sister—the only family he had left in this world.

"That's fine with me, even if he is a _dog_," he continued, and this time Jacob growled.

Remy smirked, for a moment revealing white teeth that seemed to be very feline, "A dog with a temper. Say…_now_ I know why you seem familiar; you're the one I pushed over the cliff—I recognize that smell. No hard feelings, right?" he added with a challenging grin.

Ginevra's eyes widened slightly at this—it had been him? She remembered that night clearly, the dark figure, the scent of a vampire…mixed with a spice. It had been cinnamon, she knew that now. She knew why it had disturbed her so much.

"Do you have a death wish?" Jacob growled, starting forward.

She caught him by the arm. "Don't, please."

He stopped, turning back to her—he couldn't do something that hurt her, that made her unhappy. "Fine. But if he hurts you…" he let the threat hang.

"I would do everything in my power not to harm her," Remy snapped, "I'm not sure about not hurting _you_ though."

"So we're both clear that hatred is mutual?" Jacob said, fighting to keep his temper under control.

"Quite," her brother replied, "You should be dead by now anyway. If Gin hadn't been there that night, I _would_ have killed you."

"What do you have against me? I've never even met you before tonight."

"You're a shapeshifter, that's enough for me," Remy stated, "I've grown to hate many things in my new life."

"You're a shapeshifter too," Jacob pointed out, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Remy shrugged, a peculiar smirk spreading across his face, "That may be true, but at least _my_ mother wasn't a red-skinned alcoholic."

The insult was clear and direct, and it struck a nerve. It was all it took, and in the blink of an eye, Jacob attacked. Remy met him head-on, his strength matching and surpassing that of the shapeshifter's. Ginevra took a step back, her eyes widening slightly as she watched them fight. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to do—she was surprised that Jacob hadn't phased. She would have expected him to, given the situation, but he must have more control of himself than she thought. Of course, this didn't make her like the fact that they were fighting any more than she did. She was worried about one of them getting hurt—or maybe even worse.

She growled softly, but of course the sound was lost under the feline snarls her brother was uttering. She strode forward, dodging them when she needed to, and grabbed the back of Remy's sweatshirt with both hands, using her strength to try and pull him back from Jacob. Unthinking, her brother whirled about and struck her across the face with his panther's paw, the claws extended. She reeled from the blow, the slashes his claws left healing seconds after they were inflicted. His eyes were wild, but after he realized what he'd done, a pained expression flitted across his face.

Seeing Jacob coming towards him again, she decided to take matters into her own hands now, and leaped forward, morphing in midair and hitting Remy with the weight of a tiger. He fell, and she clung to him—keeping her claws in so that she wouldn't hurt him—as they tumbled across the grass, a blur of white and black. She ended up on top of him, holding him down with her massive paws on his shoulders, but she knew he could overpower her—he chose not to though.

_Stop this, both of you!_ She demanded with a snarl, not just directing the thought to Remy, but to Jacob as well. _I won't have you two fighting!_

"You should end this yourself then, Gin," he said quietly through gritted teeth, fighting back his hatred and rage.

_What? What do you mean?_ She asked in surprise, her snarl quickly fading.

"You should just kill me. Your life is easier without me in it," Remy clarified, gazing up at her.

She suddenly felt small and vulnerable despite the form of the tiger. _Remy…I could never…_

"Gin, don't you understand? I _want_ to die. At least that way, I know I'll…never hurt you again," he said, averting his gaze.

_No!_ She growled the word, but she wasn't sure if it was really anger fueling it, or fear.

She paced next to him, freeing him from her weight, but her feline eyes never left his. _How can you say that? You're the only family I have left, even if you are…. There's some way to fix this, I know there is!_

"Gin…" he started, sitting up.

_No!_ She repeated, stopping where she was. Swiftly, the form of the tiger melted away, leaving her crouched there hugging her knees to her chest. "There has to be a way," she said aloud, tears stinging her eyes.

Tentatively, he reached out his human hand towards her—obviously trusting his self-control again—and Jacob growled, making it clear that _he_ did not trust Remy's self control. Remy ignored him though, sliding his arm around Ginevra's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. Surprising him though, she immediately moved closer to him, locking her arms around him like a small child. She was quite obviously unafraid of him.

"What about our _aunts_? Tanaquil and Elaine?" she asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

"What about them?" he said, mildly surprised.

"They're witches, don't you remember?" she said, pulling away a bit to look at him, "They must know something—some way to help."

She remembered her parents talking about the two—twin sisters—when she was, of course, just a little girl. She also remembered—vaguely though—that they would visit them, and even though they weren't really related, they were very good friends of the family. They dealt in magic, so they had to know something that they could do to help Remy, didn't they?

"Gin-"

"It's worth a try," she said fiercely.

He looked at her for a moment, debating. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a chance, we can go see them," he relented.

She smiled faintly, kissing him on the cheek, "Thank you."

However, Jacob cleared his throat, reminding them that he was still there, and wanted a say in this as well.

Ginevra stood, turning to him, and gave him a pleading look.

He knew this was important to her, and she was important to him, so against his better judgment—and his hatred of vampires—he sighed, nodding. "Fine."

"Tomorrow though," Remy said, rising to his feet, "You need rest, Ginny."

"Ironically, I agree," Jacob said.

Remy smirked slightly, "Maybe we have more in common then hatred, then."


	12. Bliss

**A/N:** Thank you ^^; This chapter is officially my new favorite x3 I wish I was Ginevra in this chapter xD Title song is Bliss, by Muse.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – "Bliss"**

It was so good to finally wash off all the blood from the fighting earlier, and for a moment she didn't want to leave the shower. She did though eventually, for fear of falling asleep standing up, and falling and causing permanent brain damage or something. After towel drying her hair, she dressed in a tank top and sleep pants and made her way down the hall to her bedroom. Remy was out there somewhere—in the surrounding woods. He hadn't wanted to stay too close for fear of something happening, but he was close enough. He didn't sleep, of course, so she was sure he was using this time to contemplate everything that was going on.

When she opened the door, she found Jacob asleep in her bed—or at least, he looked like he was asleep. She paused there in the doorway, surveying how much of the bed was left, and then sighed lightly, closing the door behind her. Of course she didn't mind his presence, but she was still afraid to tell him, afraid she would be rejected. She moved around to the other side of the bed, and when she looked over at him, she saw that he was watching her.

"If you try anything…" she didn't finish, but she didn't need to to get the point across.

"I won't," he responded.

She merely nodded, believing that his words were true, and crawled into bed, curling up under the covers with her back to him. Nuzzling her head into the pillow, she closed her eyes and attempted to go to sleep, but his presence so close to her kept making her heart race. Everything was silent, peaceful, and after a long while, she felt the exhaustion start to take over, pulling her down to the edge of sleep.

"Ginevra…"

His voice was soft, but still jolted her awake again. She chose to ignore him this time though, simply wanting to sleep. However, after a few moments, she felt him playing lightly with her hair.

"Eve?" His tone was more pleading this time.

"Hm?" she murmured, not moving or opening her eyes.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," Jacob said.

"Can it wait until morning? I'm tired," she yawned.

"I…yeah, of course," he said reluctantly.

* * *

She awoke slowly in the morning, trying and failing to discern what time it was by how bright the sunlight was beyond the confines of her closed eyes. Oh well, it didn't matter too much—she didn't think it was any later than noon. Uttering a soft sound, she moved to roll over so that she could stretch out the kinks in her body—but found that she was unable to move. For a moment, she panicked, her eyes snapping open. The reason behind her imprisonment was immediately clear; Jacob's arms were wrapped around her, holding her securely in place, her head against his chest.

She raised an eyebrow, seeing that he was still sleeping—she was surprised that she hadn't woken up due to the heat, but then realized that it seemed like her own body heat had regulated itself to compensate for him being so hot. She was perfectly comfortable in this situation—temperature wise, but she felt herself blushing at their closeness, even if he seemed to be completely unaware of it at the moment.

"Jacob…" she said somewhat quietly. Obviously it was too quiet for him to hear, as he didn't stir. "Jacob," she said again, louder this time.

Again he didn't respond, and this time she tried to free herself. However, his arms were like iron bars around her and her own were trapped against her sides. She supposed she could have pulled herself free anyway, but she didn't want to risk hurting him—or herself. Not that either of them would be hurt very much, if at all.

"Jacob!" she nearly shouted his name, and this time his eyes popped open.

"What, what? I didn't do it," he said, still half asleep, "I didn't…oh…" he trailed off, apparently seeing that whatever he'd initially thought was going on wasn't happening.

Ginevra couldn't help but giggle at his reaction. "Do you mind?" she asked lightly.

He blinked at her, for a moment not comprehending, but then he understood what she meant and quickly let her go, blushing. "Sorry."

"It's alright," she said, sitting up, "I…didn't really mind. It was just unexpected."

She stretched her arms over her head, working the kinks out, and yawned slightly, for the moment not thinking of Remy and all that was to come in the next few days. However, she did remember something from the previous night.

"Last night. What was it you'd wanted to say?" she asked, running her hands through her hair to smooth it down.

"Oh, that. It's…"

"It seemed important," she prodded when he didn't continue.

"It is," he said, sitting up.

"Well?" she said, waiting expectantly.

He looked to her, then away, then back to her again. "I don't know any other way to say this except to be direct, so that's what I'm going to do. Eve, I'm in love with you."

She blinked, for a moment speechless, sure she'd heard him wrong because this couldn't possibly be true—it was just as she'd been hoping over these past few days. "You-you are?" she finally managed.

Jacob nodded, lowering his head but never taking his eyes off of her, "Irreversibly."

Her heart soared, and she couldn't help but start to smile—she no longer had to be afraid. "I love you."

It was his turn now to blink in slight surprise—but really, he'd had an idea. She'd kissed him after all. "You do?" he asked despite himself.

"Since the moment I laid eyes on you," she confessed, "It's…kind of why I fainted. It's, ah, a cat thing. At least, that's what I'd heard, from my parents."

The feline form of imprinting then—that made sense to him. There was one logical thing to do at this moment, that words would never be able to equal, and as he leaned across the bed towards her, everything else around them seemed to fade out. His hand curled around the back of her neck, gentle but firm, and his lips were warm and soft against hers. The kiss was sweet, and made her heart skip a few beats, especially when he moved closer, kissing her again with more confidence as she responded, kissing him back.

"Jacob," she said softly, managing to pull away a little as she put a hand on his chest in a futile effort to hold him back.

"Hm?" he murmured, tracing kisses along her jaw to her ear.

"Jacob!" she squeaked when he kissed her neck.

"What?" he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

"Can you just _focus_ for a minute?" she squeaked, her cheeks flushed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, his lips grazing her neck again.

"I _meant_ about Remy!" she said breathlessly, gently pushing him back so that she could look him in the eye, "We…I…we…have to help him."

Jacob gazed at her for a moment. "You just _had_ to ruin the moment," he accused, but his tone was light—he was pleased, and amused, to see how easy it was to fluster her like this.

"We'll have more moments," she replied, still blushing as she smiled a bit, "But first we—or just me, you don't have to come—have to take Remy to see our aunts. They'll know what to do to help."

"There isn't a force on this planet that could keep me from you," he said quickly, his eyes narrowing at the thought of her being alone with the unstable vampire/shapeshifter.

"Then it's settled," Ginevra said, kissing him on the cheek before freeing herself from his warm hold on her neck to get ready to go.


	13. How To Save A Life

**A/N:** Aww. Well, I'm glad it made you smile =3 This chapter's title song is How To Save A Life, by The Fray.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – "How to Save a Life"**

The three of them were racing through the woods, Remy easily able to outrun the wolf and tiger, but reigning in his speed to keep pace with them. Not much conversation passed between them—sure, Ginevra and Remy could talk, but it was awkward between them and they had no words. She longed to talk with Jacob, but she couldn't hear his thoughts, and she wasn't exactly sure if he could hear hers while in the form of the wolf.

Her left hind leg kept itching, and she had to resist the urge to stop and scratch at it—it would have been pointless anyway. She had followed Jacob's example on carrying clothes—he'd insisted, really, so she hadn't had much of a choice if she'd chosen to decline anyway—and now had a shirt and pants tied to her leg with rope. It was odd, unfamiliar to her, and it kept distracting her. He, himself had his pair of black jeans tied to his leg—she'd decided to just let him keep them, after all, especially since he'd altered them. She'd cringed at first when he'd made the suggestion, but had relented when he explained his case—and so now they were cut-off jeans.

She was happy though, she couldn't possibly deny that. She was in love, and she was loved in return. She had found the one who was meant for her—the one she was meant for—her soul mate, in essence. If she could be so lucky as to achieve this, than she was sure that her aunts would be able to help Remy. Thinking of it now, she supposed she could have lived with them all these years she'd been alone, but she hadn't for fear of putting them in danger from those three—the sisters were gifted in magic, but she had no idea if they could do anything to protect themselves against three vampires.

_We're almost there,_ she thought to Remy, leaping over a fallen log.

He nodded ever-so-slightly, "She says we're almost there," he informed Jacob.

The russet wolf rolled his eyes as if he knew this already.

Maybe he had, maybe he _was_ able to hear her thoughts in wolf form, just not respond. She decided to test this notion.

_Hey sexy._

She saw him nearly trip over his own feet, and his head turned in her direction so fast it could have been on a swivel. After a second, he flashed her the wolf approximation of a grin, and she laughed to herself; yeah, he could hear her.

They slowed to a stop at the edge of a clearing, trees still blocking their view for now. Ginevra immediately morphed to human, while Jacob vanished from sight to phase, for obvious reasons.

"You should hang back for now," she said to her brother as she quickly tugged her clothes on, "Just until I can explain our situation to them."

"Fair enough," Remy responded, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up to hide his cat ears before crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree.

"They'll know what to do, I'm sure of it," she said optimistically as Jacob emerged, human and dressed.

"Come on," she said to him, pushing forward through the thick underbrush into the clearing.

Her aunts' house was exactly as she remembered—an incredibly large two story 'log cabin' with an attic, wrap-around porch and many windows. It was no surprise to her, but it caught Jacob off guard, and he immediately stopped walking, gazing up at the house. Looking back at him, she giggled at his expression.

"Don't just stand there, c'mon," she said, taking his hand and tugging him forward.

The contact, more than her words, brought him from his reverie, and he followed after her once more. "That's one hell of a log cabin," he commented, and she laughed.

Before they even reached the front door, it swung open and a woman popped out like a jack-in-the-box. She was younger than Jacob had expected, or at least she appeared to be—she seemed around thirty, with long, pin-straight honey-colored hair and deep green eyes with a scattering of freckles across her fair skin.

"Ginevra, darling!" she said warmly, capturing her in a hug before the young shapeshifter could react, "It's good to see you again, it's been so long."

"Hi, Aunt Tanaquil," Ginevra greeted her as she was released from the hug.

"And who's this fine young man?" Tanaquil said, her bright eyes shifting to Jacob, "A friend of yours? Or perhaps your boyfriend?" she added upon seeing their still joined hands.

Ginevra flushed, for a moment at a loss of words, but to her surprise, Jacob spoke up.

"Yes, I am," he said, extending a hand to the woman, "My name's Jacob; it's nice to meet you."

She turned her surprised gaze to him—she hadn't been expecting this, not with how wary he had seemed of meeting the twin witches. But then again, a lot of people liked her aunts; they just…were so friendly.

Tanaquil's eyes sparkled as she shook his hand lightly, "So polite, and a shapeshifter as well," she nodded approvingly.

Now it was Jacob's turn to be surprised. "How did you-"

She smiled, "I know these things, dear," she said.

Ginevra nodded in agreement, "Aunt Tanaquil sees things—like, psychic type things."

"Ginevra!" another voice suddenly exclaimed as a second woman hurried out through the door and hugged her.

"Hi, Aunt Elaine," she responded, hugging her back with one arm.

They were exactly identical in every way, except that this second aunt wore white while the first was dressed in deep red. Despite that, it was still like seeing double and it reminded Jacob of his sisters.

"Well, what a handsome young man," Elaine said, gazing at Jacob studiously, causing him to blush.

"Ginevra's found herself a boyfriend," Tanaquil announced.

"Well," Elaine said again, raising her eyebrows, "He looks a little old to me."

"Oh, Elaine, you know you can't judge a book by its cover—he's not that old," Tanaquil chided lightly, looking back to Jacob, "He's only sixteen."

Elaine's brows raised again, "So young!"

At this point, Ginevra cleared her throat, having been forgotten and knowing that Jacob had to be uncomfortable, being talked about like he wasn't standing right there.

"Oh! Forgive us," Tanaquil said, appearing slightly flustered, "You came to see us for a reason, didn't you?"

"Yes, it's important. I need your help," Ginevra nodded, her expression serious.

"You're not getting married, are you?" Elaine interjected.

Ginevra glanced back to Jacob, who was looking at her with an expression that clearly asked how much help these two were supposed to be when they were carrying on like this. Looking back to Elaine, she sighed a bit.

"Please, this is serious. It's…it's about Remy."

"Remy?" Elaine repeated in surprise, obviously not expecting this.

"Yes," Tanaquil said, nodding as if she was fully aware of this, "Please, do come in, then we can discuss everything."

The two ushered the young shapeshifters inside, and Jacob pulled close to whisper in Ginevra's ear.

"So if she's psychic, what's so special about the other?"

"Elaine reads emotions," she replied in a hushed whisper, "And of course that's not all they can do—they _are_ witches after all."

"This should be good," he said under his breath, but his tone was curious.

"So, Remy's returned to us, has he?" Tanaquil said as Ginevra led the way into the spacious living room by instinct.

"Um…yeah," the pale blonde said, struggling to find the right words, "That's where the problem is…he…"

"He's a vampire," Jacob stated bluntly.

"Oh my," Elaine said, sitting down rather suddenly on the chair that had luckily been behind her.

"Is that it, what you want our help for?" Tanaquil asked gently.

Fighting back tears, Ginevra slid her hand from Jacob's, going over to the large floor-length window. "Yes," she nodded.

"Ginevra, dear," Tanaquil said softly, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, "There is no way to cure vampirism, you know that."

"But—isn't there something?" Ginevra asked pleadingly, finding it harder and harder to fight back her tears.

"Once the venom has taken hold, there is no way to purge it, to bring the victim back to life. They are gone as a human, forever," her aunt explained.

"But…" the blonde shapeshifter started, trying to come up with something, anything. And then, it occurred to her. "Maybe you could still help him, in another way," she said, swallowing hard as she turned, looking to her aunt.

"Perhaps," Tanaquil said thoughtfully, exchanging a look with Elaine, "We'll do whatever we can to help. You're family to us, after all."

"You should see him then, talk to him yourself," Ginevra sniffled, wiping at a few stray tears that clung to her long lashes, "He's right outside."

Tanaquil nodded, moving towards her sister as Jacob, who had been temporarily forgotten about, sidled over to where Ginevra stood, putting a comforting arm around her. He didn't want her to be sad, and it bothered him to see her cry, however slight her tears were.

"Actually, I'm right here."

All four of them looked up at the sound of Remy's voice, seeing that he stood in the doorway. He must have overheard their conversation, and decided to save them the trouble of going outside for him.

"Oh my," Elaine said again, though at least this time she was already sitting down.


	14. Fix You

**A/N:** Ah, yes, we'll see x3 Though she IS in some denial because she obviously hoped they had a miracle cure for vampirism xD Short chapter. Title song is Fix You, by Coldplay.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – "Fix You"**

She chewed her lip anxiously as she sat on the porch railing. Ever since the situation with Remy had been explained, her aunts had been talking about it for what felt like forever. She didn't know what they were saying—they'd retreated to one of the upstairs rooms that had a soundproof charm around it—but she hoped they were deciding to help him. Jacob stood behind her, his hands on the railing on either side of her, and she leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes.

"They'll come up with something, I know it," she sighed.

"What if they don't?" he asked quietly, resting his chin on top of her head.

"They _will_," she insisted.

"I'm just saying—what if they don't?" he said carefully, "He's a _vampire_, he's dangerous. He's killed people."

"He's still my brother, no matter what, and I will do everything in my power to help him," she said evenly, knowing what he was getting at.

"Sorry," he said—he hadn't meant to upset her, he was just stating the facts.

"Ginevra." Tanaquil's soft voice caught them both off guard as neither of them had heard her approach.

Ginevra opened her eyes and turned her head towards Tanaquil, "Yes, aunt?" she inquired, her heart rate speeding up.

"We believe we have reached a conclusion, but we will have to have a private conversation with Remy," the woman replied, "I just wanted to let you know."

"Alright," Ginevra said with a nod, biting her lower lip.

This would all work out—it had to.

* * *

Elaine was seated in a plush red velvet chair while Tanaquil stood facing Remy. The three of them were gathered in the upstairs room whose walls were laced with a soundproof charm, allowing noise in but not out. Self-consciously he had his hood pulled up over his ears, and he was looking between the twins anxiously. He didn't know what they were going to ask him, or what was going to proceed afterwards, but he wanted this to work—for Ginevra's sake.

"As you know, there is no way to cure your vampirism," Tanaquil stated, her tone nothing but serious, "There is, however, something else we can do to help."

She paused and he waited expectantly for her to continue.

"We will need to ask you some questions first though," she concluded.

"Why?" he asked, cat ears twitching.

"To determine your mental state of course dear, and to figure out how it will be affected," she replied.

That hadn't been what he'd been expecting, but he simply nodded anyway, "As you wish."

"We will start, and Elaine shall keep an eye on your emotions during each question," Tanaquil said, "To begin with, why do you detest shapeshifters?"

He considered this, his ears twitching again. "Because they can continue dong what they were born to," he replied, "Because my creators hated them, and I have picked up that trait, and because my own birthright has granted me this curse upon becoming a vampire."

Tanaquil looked to Elaine, who nodded in response to some unheard inquiry. Tanaquil looked back to him, "And what is the cause of your aversion to humans?"

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "They are the natural prey of vampires, and it is more so my hate of having to kill them to survive, than of humans themselves," he said quietly.

Elaine confirmed that his words and regret were true, and Tanaquil moved on. "If you had your human form back, do you believe any of that would change?"

He hesitated, considering this, and then nodded. How different things would be if he didn't look like a monster anymore!

"I have one final question now," Tanaquil said, her voice becoming even more serious, "This is the most important one, so take care with your answer. If it was the only way you could survive—the only way you were allowed to live—would you be able to stop killing humans? To feed solely off of animals?"

Remy blinked in surprise, definitely not having expected this question. Would he be able to quell his natural vampire's instincts to kill humans? Would he be able to turn his bloodlust to animals instead and become a…whatever you would call that? He knew that this was important to his little sister—important enough that he would try whatever he had to to make her happy. He would even try this, if he must.

"If it was the only way," he said carefully, "Then I would do my best to fit into this lifestyle."

Tanaquil looked over to Elaine, who was still watching Remy with a curious expression. At last, she nodded; his words and sentiment were true.

* * *

Jacob's arms were around her waist as she sat sideways on his lap, her toes not even touching the floor while he occupied the rest of the couch with his long legs. Currently, she was nuzzling the side of his neck in a very feline-like fashion, inhaling his scent and trying to distract herself from her worries.

"You know," she said, pulling back a bit and resting her forearms on his shoulders to lace her fingers together, "There was something else I'd wanted to mention this morning."

"What would that be?" he asked.

"The way you smell," Ginevra said, nuzzling her nose into his shaggy black hair, "I don't know why everyone keeps saying you smell bad. I love the way you smell."

She paused, closing her eyes and he waited almost impatiently for her to continue.

"Reminds me of the forest after a rainstorm," she murmured into his hair.

"Well I'm glad _someone_ thinks so," Jacob said with a grin, "I was beginning to think that everyone I met hated the way I smell."

She laughed softly, kissing the side of his jaw, "Something must be wrong with their noses then," she said.

It was at that moment that her aunts appeared in the doorway to the living room, having come down from their meeting with Remy.

"We have good news," Elaine announced, interrupting the young shapeshifters.

Tanaquil nodded in agreement, her green eyes serious but bright, "We're going to restore Remy's human form to him."


	15. Forever

**A/N:** Thank you ^-^ Here we have a fun chapter x3 Title song is Forever by Chris Brown, just cause the upbeat-ness of it felt like it fit x3

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – "Forever"**

Her aunts had suggested—quite forcibly—that she and Jacob got out of the house for an hour or so while the twins were working their magic to restore Remy, and so that's why the pair had ended up some distance into the woods. They'd already had a run—a race, really, in which Ginevra could have won, but hadn't wanted to wound Jacob's ego just yet, and so had reigned in her speed.

She was lounging quite comfortably on a high tree branch, her hands folded over her stomach while she let one bare foot dangle over the side. Of course, Jacob was on the ground beneath her—wolves didn't climb trees after all, or even feel at home in the branches of one, so neither did he. He was bothered by the fact that she'd chosen to be up there though, as if she wanted distance between them.

"I told you they'd come up with something," the blonde stated, gazing up through the leaves and branches at what little patches of the sky she could see. "And after," she added, knowing what he was going to say before he even started, "He'll learn to be different."

"Hope so," Jacob said, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and tilting his head to look up to where she was.

Expertly, she rolled over on the branch, laying on her stomach now to gaze down at him. "You need to be more optimistic," she said with a slight smile, resting her chin on her hands.

"Why don't you come down here, and I'll show you how optimistic I can be," he suggested slyly.

She laughed, crossing her ankles, and made no move to leave her cozy tree branch. "Why _should_ I?" she teased.

"Get down here," he growled with mock irritation.

Ginevra laughed again, rolling off the branch and tucking into a ball as she fell. Landing lightly on her feet a few yards away from him, she straightened and stretched her arms over her head. "Fine, here I am," she said with a mischievous smile, "But if you want my company, you'll have to catch me first."

"That so?" he said with a smirk, hopping to his feet as she took a few steps back, "This shouldn't take long then."

"We'll see," she replied, smirking as well.

He took a step towards her and she whirled, dashing away through the forest. She was a pale blur as she ran, her feet touching the ground lightly while hardly making a sound. Due to this, she could hear the leaves crunching underfoot as he ran after her. She dodged around a bush, leaping over a fallen log it had concealed, and glanced slightly back over her shoulder. As she did, she saw him reaching out for her, so close to catching her, and ducked, falling into a controlled slide across the dead leaves and long pine needles covering the forest floor. Springing to her feet, she took off running again, giving a lighthearted laugh as she did so.

She increased her speed, lengthened her stride, and it was so effortless, like taking a stroll. Her breathing was even, her mind clearing as if the breeze blowing through her hair was blowing her worries away. She didn't have to think much—the placement of her feet was instinctual, as was avoiding all the natural obstacles. All she had to worry about was running fast enough to stay ahead of Jacob, until whatever point that this chase was over.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow coming up on her side, saw him veering towards her, and changed direction without breaking stride. He growled at her second escape, but the sound was light, and she grinned. Up ahead, a wide brook ran through the woods, and it was towards this that she was running. She wasn't entirely sure she could make it all the way across, but she was about to find out. A split-second before her toes touched the edge of the water, she leaped, focusing solely on the opposite bank while she was airborne. She landed on the balls of her feet in a crouch, her toes sinking into the wet sand while her heels would have been in the water had she been standing proper.

Thrilled with her success, she took off running again, slowing slightly though because she was curious with how Jacob was going to make it across. She didn't have to wonder long, as a few seconds later there was a splash, and she heard Jacob cursing. She looked back over her shoulder to see that he landed just shy of the brook's bank—and did not appear pleased with this fact—and she broke into giggles. However, she had to dash swiftly between the trees as he continued the chase—he seemed to be even more intent on catching her now.

She darted around a large rock, dodging back the opposite way afterwards as he reached for her. As she sprinted through the forest, she looked back over her shoulder again—but he wasn't there. Puzzled, she scanned the area around her—she could hear his footsteps, but she couldn't see him, couldn't tell where the sounds were coming from. All at once, he was ahead of her, emerging from behind a tree as she blew past, his arms encircling her waist. Her feet left the ground momentarily as he pulled her to a stop, holding her against him.

"Alright, so you caught me," she relented with a laugh, laying her hands over his as if to hold herself up, though the move was purely reflex as she was in no danger of losing her footing.

"You knew I would," he murmured, bending his head to nuzzle her windblown hair.

"I never really _wanted_ to get away anyway," she confessed, though this was no surprise to him.

"That's good," Jacob said, nuzzling her ear now.

She twisted around in his arms to face him, rising on her tip-toes as his lips met hers. At that moment, as she slid her arms around his neck, her whole world retracted until it only included the two of them. Her heart was doing a funny—but not unpleasant—dance, just like the last time they'd kissed, and she found herself unable to think straight. Not that she needed to think at this moment—kissing him was purely instinctual, as if she'd been born to be with him.

* * *

"So," Ginevra said as she folded her hands across her stomach as she lay on the ground, her head resting on his lap as he sat with his back against a tree, "What's your home like?"

"Wet," he replied with a slight laugh, "And cold. But I like it; it's home."

"Is it nice though?" she asked, curious.

"Yeah, I guess," Jacob said thoughtfully, running his fingers through her hair, "It's very green."

"Green is good," she said approvingly with a smile.

They'd been sitting like this in silence for a while, since he'd kissed her, and though it was a pleasant silence, she'd wanted to talk about some things before they got back to her aunts' place. In truth, she was still nervous about how things went with Remy, despite that Tanaquil had explained it was a fairly simple transformation magic, and wouldn't be much more difficult then, say, turning someone into a frog or such.

"Got a lot of friends?" she inquired, hoping to distract herself again from her worries.

"Well, I don't know if you'd call them _all_ friends, but I know a few people."

"That's good…I think," she said, looking up at the sky through the branches of the tree above them.

"You'll have to meet them someday, when we get back there," he said.

With a slight, puzzled frown, she looked to him, not even having the voice the question she had.

"Unless you want to stay out here forever," he added quickly.

She looked away, considering this. "You'd like to go home, wouldn't you?" she said aloud, but the question was rhetorical, she didn't need a response to know the answer.

In truth, she didn't really have anything tying her down to this place—it just held a lot of bad memories. She supposed she could give the animals to someone in town whom she could trust to take care of them, and she didn't really have any personal belongings that she would die without. In question of the animals though, Bugs had never shown up after he'd gone missing, the night she dreamed of Jacob, and she had to face the truth that something had happened to the rooster—either one of the vampires was to blame, or the silly bird had wandered into the claws of some forest predator.

"Remy would be coming with us," she said, looking back to him.

"Of course," Jacob said with a slight sigh—but he'd been expecting her to say something like that anyway.

"Oh!" she said, suddenly sitting up as she noticed how the sky was beginning to turn various shades of red and gold, "We should head back, I'm sure they're done with…"

She didn't finish, but she didn't need to. Getting to her feet, she brushed some stray leaves and pine needles from her clothes before turning in the direction that she knew—by instinct, along with her sharp feline senses—was the direction of her aunts.

"Race?" she suggested as he stood as well, "I bet I can beat you."

"You're on," he replied, thinking to his previous success of catching her.

"Excellent," she said with a grin, "And this time try not to fall in the river."

He muttered something she didn't catch, taking a playful swipe at her, and she dodged, breaking into giggles as she started off running.


	16. Unwritten

**A/N:** She is being quite optimistic xD But, we'll see how things turn out =3 Title song is Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – "Unwritten"**

Almost there! Just a little further—she could see the trees opening up into the clearing where her aunt's house was. She was in the lead, her stride long and swift, while he was some yards behind her. She was so much smaller than him, it would only seem natural that _he_ should be ahead—considering his height and longer legs—but somehow it was her. There! She burst through the final line of trees, coming to a swift stop a few feet inside the clearing. Coming through the trees behind her, Jacob didn't stop in time, and so crashed into her. The two of them fell to the ground, tumbling across the grass in a tangle of arms and legs and laughter.

"Told you I'd beat you," Ginevra said when they finally came to a stop, taking a second to catch her breath.

"I let you win," he insisted, and she giggled, kissing his nose.

"_Sure_," she said.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice inquired.

Her head snapped up at the sound, and for a second she was frozen. He stood some feet away from them, his arms crossed over his chest. No longer did cat ears poke out from his hair—his human ears were exactly where they belonged, the right adorned with three silver hoops. His face no longer held feline aspects, his teeth no longer pointed like fangs—though his eyes would no longer return to their piercing blue color. They would forever be blood red, or, perhaps in time, another color. His arms were normal, and though he was still barefoot, his legs no longer ended in panther's paws. He was even more handsome than she remembered—despite lacking the deep tan he'd had before—and she knew that was due to his vampiric nature.

"Remy!" she cried, untangling herself from Jacob and throwing herself at her brother in a tight hug.

It was like hitting a cold brick wall, but she didn't mind. She was overjoyed that it had worked—that he could no longer claim he wanted to die because he looked like a monster.

"I'm so happy," she said, her voice muffled against his chest, her tone somewhere between laughter and tears.

"So am I, Gin," he replied, wrapping his arms around her, taking care to remember that despite her being a shapeshifter, she was still human and could easily be hurt by his strength.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and with a smile, ran a hand through his silken black hair, thrilled with the success. As she did so though, one of the last rays of the setting sun poked through the trees, splashing across his cheek to light it up with a brilliant spark. She tilted her head to the side, awed and intrigued—she'd never actually seen this before after all, since Doyle and the other two had always come at night—and brushed her hand across his cheek. It was so beautiful, like diamonds.

Remy, however, grimaced once he understood what had captured her interest and took a step back to move out of the sunlight. It was just another reminder of what had happened to him.

"This is the beginning of a new time in my life," he said to her, "I've made a promise to Tanaquil and Elaine, and I plan on keeping it, if only for your sake."

He didn't have to explain, for they all knew what promise he spoke of.

Ginevra nodded, "You'll be able to, I know you will," she said confidently. At that moment, she thought to herself that Remy had to be the only vampire she didn't feel threatened around, that she didn't despise—that she loved. Their family bond would not be broken by his change.

"I'll make sure you don't _slip_, vampire," Jacob said from where he stood, his tone once more giving away his hatred of bloodsuckers.

Remy looked over to him, releasing Ginevra and stepping around her. "I won't need you following every step I take, making sure I don't forget, _dog_," he said, stopping a few feet from the shapeshifter, "I can handle this myself."

The two glared at each other for a moment—Remy forced to look up to Jacob because despite his height of 6'2", the vampire was still nearly half a foot shorter than the latter. Height difference or not though, he currently exuded a threatening aura that easily matched that of the shapeshifter.

"You could still lose control," Jacob pointed out, crossing his arms.

"That may be true, but in the event that does happen, I would rather trust Gin to stop me," Remy retorted, "At least she cares. _You_, on the other hand, are just looking for some excuse to kill me."

Jacob started to reply, looked past Remy to where Ginevra stood, and saw the expression on her face. He hesitated, knowing that he couldn't kill the vampire unless it was absolutely necessary—unless there was no other choice left—because it would devastate her. "All the more reason to make sure you don't slip," he grumbled.

Ginevra though, knew anything serious wouldn't happen 'just cause'—just cause they hated each other, that is—and her tense posture became more relaxed. "You _boys_ can stand here and bicker all evening if you want," she said, emphasizing _boys_, "But I'm going to go thank our aunts for all their help."

They both stopped at that moment, turning to look at her.

"That's a good idea, Gin," Remy said, cutting off Jacob before he could say anything, and strode forward to stand beside his sister.

* * *

"Oh Ginevra, we're so glad we could help," Elaine said, sweeping up the blonde in a hug before she could say much more than 'thank you'.

"You still have a long way to go before things are truly alright, but I have the utmost confidence in you," Tanaquil was saying to Remy.

He ducked his head, almost seeming a bit shy. "Thank you," he said quietly, "I won't disappoint you."

"Take care of yourself, and your brother," Elaine said to Ginevra, releasing her from the hug, "You're the only real family either of you has left."

"I will, aunt Elaine," the pale shapeshifter promised, smiling faintly.

"And you, young man!" Elaine continued, turning to Jacob who froze at her tone, "You will take good care of our niece. If you two truly love each other, you will make her happy, keep her from harm, and support her—in more ways than one, you know what I mean."

For a moment, he had no reaction except to stare at her with wide eyes. "Of course," he said at last, "She's my world; she's in the best care."

"Good," Elaine said, nodding approvingly, "And be sure that never changes. If you ever break her heart, well…"

"I understand," he assured her.

"If you ever need anything, if something happens, you know we're always here for you, and will do our best to help," Tanaquil told Ginevra, sweeping her up into a hug much like Elaine had done.

"Yes, thank you, aunt Tanaquil," she replied, returning the hug.

"You all take care," the twin witches said in unison, standing on the top step of the porch together.

"We will," Ginevra and Remy said, one after the other, while Jacob just nodded.

The three moved into the trees around the clearing, separating momentarily as the two shapeshifters had to make preparations for their traveling—tying their clothes up, of course. Within a few minutes though, the wolf and tiger ran side-by-side through the forest, Remy joining them a second later.


End file.
